One for the Alien
by Lux
Summary: When the one alien you’re after is the only thing that can protect you…
1. (1/7)

Title: One for the Alien

Title: **One for the Alien**  
Author: Lux  
Email: vivien_rosebud@hotmail.com  
Rating: R  
Summary: When the one alien you're after is the only thing that can protect you…

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Author's Notes: This fanfic is a ~ Alternate Universe Book Swap: Based strongly on the work of Janet Evanovich and her characters Stephanie Plum and Joseph Morelli who have such a strong life of their own. [www.evanovich.com][1], so it should be said that this Fic is dedicated to Janet.

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PART ONE 

There are some guys who enter a woman's life and screw it up. Michael Guerin did this to me – periodically to begin with then continuously.

Michael and I were both born and raised in a chunk of New Mexico called Roswell. Roswell is a pretty straightforward town, crime, shops, families, and of course aliens. It's actually the alien population that put the small town on the map. Because even though the aliens have arrived in different parts of the world now there was a time when they were only landing in Roswell. It began in 1947 and they just haven't stopped. The strange thing is that when they come they can't go back and they don't remember why they came in the first place. This causes friction because there are many suspicious people who don't believe the aliens have memory loss and are just waiting on the sidelines, in the wings of society and more importantly Roswell to create a full out war. Other then that though it's an okay place to raise a family.

As a kid I didn't play with Michael Guerin. "Stay away from those alien boys," my mother had warned me. "They're wild. I hear stories about the things they do to girls when they get them alone."

"What kind of things?" I'd eagerly asked.

"You don't want to know," my mother had answered.

From that point on, I viewed Michael Guerin with a combination of fear and discreet curiosity that bordered on awe. Two weeks later after my mothers warning, at the age of six, with quaking knees and a squishy stomach, I followed Michael into his father's garage on the promise of learning a new game. 

Never destined to house UFO's, the garage served other purposes. Henry Guerin used the garage to take his belt to his son and his son - Michael Guerin took me, Maria DeLuca, to the garage to play train.

"What's the name of this game?" I'd asked Michael Guerin.

"Choo-choo," he'd replied, down on his hands and knees, crawling between my legs, his head trapped under my short yellow skirt. 

"You're the tunnel and I'm the train."

This tells you something about my personality – I'm not especially good at taking advice and I was born with an overload of curiosity. Or maybe it was about rebellion and boredom in Roswell or maybe even fate. At any rate, it was a one-shot deal and pretty darn disappointing at that, since I'd only gotten to be the tunnel and I had really wanted to be the train.

Ten years later, Michael Guerin was still living two blocks over. He'd grown up big and bad, with eyes like black fire one minute and melt-in-your-mouth chocolate the next. He had an alien symbol tattooed on his chest, a tight-arsed, narrow-hipped swagger, and a reputation for having fast hands and clever fingers.

My best friend, Liz Parker, said she heard Michael had a tongue like a lizard.

"Holy cow," I'd answered, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"Just don't let him get you alone or you'll find out. Once he gets you alone...that's it. You're done for."

I hadn't seen much of Michael since the train episode. I supposed he'd enlarged his repertoire of sexual exploitations. 

I had opened my eyes wide and leaned closer to Liz, hoping for the worst. "You aren't talking about rape, are you?"

"I'm talking about lust! If he wants you, you're doomed. The guy is irresistible."

Aside from being fingered at the age of six by you-know-who, I was untouched. I was saving myself for marriage, or till at least after high school. "I'm a human," I said, as if this was news. "I'm sure he doesn't mess with humans."

"He specializes in humans! The brush of his fingertips turns humans into slobbering mush."

Two weeks later, Michael Guerin came into the diner where I worked every day after school called The Crashdown. He bought a chocolate cake, told me he'd joined the navy, then proceeded to charm the pants off of me after closing, on the floor, behind the counter of The Crashdown.

The next time I saw him, I was 18. I was on my way to the mall, driving my mother's Jetta when I spotted Michael standing in front of a just arrived UFO. I gunned the engine, jumped the curb and clipped Michael from behind, bouncing him off the front right fender. I stopped the car and got out to assess the damage. "Anything broken?"

He was sprawled on the pavement, looking up my skirt. "My leg."

"Good," I said. Then I turned on my heel, got into the Jetta, and drove to the mall.

I attribute the incident to temporary insanity, and in my own defense, I'd like to say I haven't run over anyone since.

It has now been 7 years since the Jetta confrontation and I'm 25 years old and on my way to my mothers for dinner, on a Saturday, needless to say the Jetta incident has been one of the few highlights in my miserable life.

I love my mother but I was dreading this visit… "I heard you lost your job!" My mother announced as I got out of my car, the reason why I was dreading this visit crystallized when I heard her tone. "And you're behind on your car payments, plus Mrs Parker said she saw you pawning furniture!"

This was all true of course, there's nothing like the Roswell grapevine to remind you of your life's misfortunes, you know, just encase you forget how crappy your life had become.

After dinner the lecture, which was full of annoying job suggestions, ended and I sat down on the living room couch and moped as mum made coffee in the kitchen. Scanning the pages of the Roswell Herald I searched the paper for jobs to further mellow in my miserable state. 

An article caught my eye instantly – '$10 000 for willing bounty hunter' it read. The article was large and it went on to say that due to the seriousness of the crime the state of New Mexico was going to give 10% of the $100 000 bond to whom ever can bring back the felon, alive or dead. My head was spinning at the possible sum… the money would save my furniture and set me up with the next six months rent. 

The article went on to say that the expert bounty hunter Jim Valenti had been taken out of the hunt due to surgery so that the alien fugitive… Alien? What was I mad? My fantasy $10 000 crash landed. Me a bounty Hunter, finding an alien… I mean come on, what was I thinking?

Curiosity and temptation was too much though, I had to read further, because a was still harboring an element of hope. It wouldn't hurt if I went down to the Bond Agent… would it? I mean $10 000 could I really give up before I even knew the facts? 

Aliens weren't _that_ scary… I mean for God sake Maria one took your virginity! I take that back, aliens are scary and _very_ dangerous…

Waking up to no food and remembering the furniture I once had made me reconsider this bounty hunter gig. I had taken the paper home with me and I scanned it again as I ate some air. The article said that willing candidates should go to 'Valenti Bonds' to receive the information on the felon and to ask to speak to the manager Kyle Valenti. Hmmmm, I thought, son of Jim Valenti?

I had a quick shower so my water bill would be easier to ignore this week and got my car keys to head to the address in the paper. However when I got to the car park I realized something startling. Those worm car payment people had repossessed my car in the night. Damn, damn and triple damn, life was shit! And what's worse was I was going to have to borrow my mother's car… the Jetta. Which at the moment was more trouble than anything else, I had a love/hate relationship with that car.

Arriving at the Valenti Bonds Building I immediately realised that Kyle was indeed the son of Jim, I also realised that Kyle didn't really think to highly of his dad and that he was a good man even though he had no respect for his family. When I showed him the paper and said I was interested in the case Kyle rocked back on his heels and studied me. "You done any bounty hunting work before?"

"No." I couldn't lie very well and I knew in the pit of my stomach this guy liked honestly better than any other character trait. However I did suspect that he admired my green eyes, blonde hair and chest as well.

"You can have it." He said as he looked through his desk for the appropriate file. Something in his voice made me distrust his willingness to give me the case, like maybe he didn't want this alien to be found. 

Handing me the file he smiled and I began to regret my earlier thought on his character and the place of honesty in his trait hierarchy. "This space-guy has been charged with murder. We'll go through the file later though, my dickhead dad and I gathered the info after he posted bail and added various bits when he skipped." I had been right about this guy not liking his dad much though… "However what it doesn't say in the file, that my father decided not to include is the job of the charged guy. He helps distressed people and aliens with their problems, sort of like a social worker. If some people are having trouble with some aliens he sorts it out and if aliens are having trouble with some people he deals with it. Very law abiding, I sort of peace-maker." God this guy didn't sound like a 'murderer' to me, and if Kyle hadn't kept looking at my chest I would say he was in love with the felon. "My dear old dad also didn't put in a character statement so I'll give you a quick rundown on his political views, I didn't know him personally, but he was big on this alien-human suspicious thing. He like the other spacies deny to have any knowledge of why he's here but when asked what he thinks the reason is he said maybe 'political refugee' or something." 

"So um, who am I looking for?" I asked Kyle.

Kyle handed me the file. "Michael Guerin."

My heart flipped in my chest as my fingers flipped open Michael's file and studied the photos that were among various newspaper articles and white written sheets. There was a mug shot from the arrest and a candid picture of him in a brown leather jacket and jeans. 

He hadn't changed much. A little leaner, perhaps. More bone definition in the face. Still freaking outstanding in the good looks department and from the candid picture I could tell he still had the best arse in New Mexico.

Michael had taken advantage of my naiveté not once, but twice. After the scene on the crashdown floor, he'd never called, never sent a postcard, never even said goodbye. And the worst part of it all was that I'd wanted him to call. Liz had been right about Michael Guerin. He'd been irresistible. 

Michael was a part of my childhood and my childish feelings for him had no place in the present. I had a job to do. Plain and simple. I wasn't out to avenge old injuries. Finding Michael had to do with the rent money. Yeah right. That's why I suddenly had this knot in my stomach. 

My reaction to the case wasn't lost on Kyle. "From the look on your face, I'd say you know him."

I nodded, "I sold him a cake when I was in High School."

"Honey, half the females in New Mexico have sold him their cake." Kyle replied.

Kyle and I then went through the file, outlining the crime. He then suggested where I should begin first – 'his house' he had said, 'that's where hunters usually start looking. And you never know you might just get lucky.'

According to the information on the bond contract Michael lived in an apartment about 4 miles away. I drove over and waited in the car park across from Michael's alleged home. The apartment block was more ritzy then most but I could tell it was more a middle class block then a high flyer one.

On the address form it had the apartment listed as 1b, and seeing as though there were three floors and judging by the mailbox only two apartments on each floor I assumed the apartment on the first floor on the right was Michael's. 

While debating my next move Michael's cousin – Anthony Guerin rolled up in a huge powder blue Buick. I new it was Anthony because he liked me for 2 weeks in second grade before Michael told him not too. Anthony had also been in my science class, make that, all my classes for my entire school career. I only got rid of him after high school, but I fancy that was because he never went to college. 

Anthony got out of the car and entered the right apartment. After about 2 minutes he left the building with a back bag. Getting into his car Anthony didn't see me as I kept a car length behind him as he drove away.

Anthony drove to an apartment block about half a mile away, he entered this one and left all within 5 minutes of arriving, however I did notice he didn't have the bag with him as he left. 

Could Michael be in there? After Anthony was well out of site I went over to this new apartment block myself. There was only one letterbox without a surname, I gathered my stomach that had fallen out of my butt as I had walked over to the building and decided to go with the mystery door.

Adrenaline tripped into my bloodstream as I turned to the stairs. By the time I had reached the second-floor my heart was pounding. Stage fright, I told myself. Perfectly normal. I took a few deep breaths and without benefit of brainpower managed to motor myself to the appropriate door. A hand was knocking on the door. Holy cow, it was my hand.

I sensed movement behind the door. Air stuck in my lungs and my pulse throbbed painfully in my throat. Why was I doing this? What did I know about catching murderers? Don't think of him as a murderer. I reasoned. Think of him as a macho jerk!

The bolt slid back and the door was yanked open and I suddenly found myself face to face with Michael Guerin. His stance was passive-aggressive. "What?" he said his voice laced with impatience.

He was more solid than I'd remembered. More angry. His eyes were more remote, the line in his mouth more cynical.

I took a moment to steady my voice, to formulate the lie. "I'm looking for Joe Morelli…"

"You got the wrong apartment. There's no Morelli here."

I feigned confusion. Forced a tight smile. "Sorry…" I took a step backwards and was about to bolt down the stairs when recognition hit Michael.

"Jesus Christ!" he said. "Maria DeLuca?"

I was familiar with that sort of tone and the sentiment behind it. Fine by me, I told myself. Get it straight from the beginning there was no love lost between us. That made my job easier. "Michael Guerin." I said. "What a surprise."

His expression narrowed. "Yeah. Almost as surprising as when you nailed me with your car."

In the interest of avoiding confrontation, I felt compelled to explain. I didn't feel obliged to do it convincingly. "It was an accident. My foot slipped."

"That was no accident. You jumped the goddamn curb and followed me down the sidewalk!" He leaned beyond the doorframe and looked the length of the hallway. "So what are you really doing here? My life wasn't fucked up enough for you?"

"I couldn't careless about your fucked-up life," I snapped. "You're in violation of your bond agreement." Good going, Maria. Wonderful display of control.

He grinned. "You're going to bring me in?"

"You think that's funny?"

"Yeah, I do. And I have to tell you, I really enjoy a good joke these days, because I haven't had much to laugh about lately." The contours of his face suddenly hardened. "I have no intention of going back into custody. Do you know what happens to aliens in prisons? It's not nice. And if you what to know the ugly truth, you'd be the last person I'd let collect the bounty money. You're a lunatic. You ran me over with a goddamn Jetta."

I'd been telling myself I didn't give a hoot about Michael and his opinion of me, but in all honesty, his animosity hurt. Deep down inside, I'd wanted him to hold a tender feeling for me. I wanted to ask him why he'd never called after he'd seduced me in the Crashdown. Instead I yelled at him. 

"You deserved to get run over! And besides, I barely tapped you. The only reason you broke your leg was because you panicked and tripped over your own feet."

"You're lucky I didn't sue you."

"You're lucky I didn't put it into reverse."

Michael rolled his eyes and threw his hands into the air. "I gotta go. I'd love to stand around and try to understand DeLuca logic…"

"DeLuca logic? Excuse me?" Michael turned from the door and shrugged into a coat, grabbing a black nylon duffel bag from the floor he nudged me aside, locking his door behind him. He was ignoring me! I followed him down the stairs. "Listen, I may be new at this apprehension stuff, but I'm not stupid or a quitter. You can run if you want, but I'll keep tracking you down." What a load of bull! I couldn't believe I was saying it. I'd been lucky to find him this time.

He left through a back entrance and headed for an old car, which was parked close to the building. "Don't bother tracing the plate," he said. "I'll have a different car soon. And, don't waste your energy following me. I'll lose you. I guarantee it." 

He dumped the duffel bag onto the front seat, started to get into the car, and stopped. He turned and straightened, hooked an elbow over the doorframe and for the first time since I'd popped up on his doorstep he took a few moments to actually look at me. 

The first rush of angry emotion was gone, and in its place was quiet assessment. This was the grown-up Michael, the Michael I didn't know, if such an animal existed. Or maybe it was just the old Michael, looking for a new angle. "I like the way you've let your hair go curly," he finally said. "Suit's your personality. Lot's of energy, not much control, sexy as hell."

"You know nothing about my personality."

"I know about the sexy as hell part."

I felt my face burn. "Tactless of you to remind me."

Michael grinned. "You're right. And you could be right about the Jetta business, too. I probably deserved to get run over."

"Was that an apology?"

"No. But you can hold the flashlight next time we play train."

When I returned to Kyle's office I slouched by his desk, tipping my head back to get maximum benefit from the air-conditioning.

"You been jogging?" Kyle smiled when he entered the office from the street.

"My car doesn't have air."

"Bummer. How's it going with Guerin? Got any leads?"

"That's why I'm here Kyle. This capturing stuff isn't as easy as it sounds. I really need help."

"I know just the guy to help you. Cagier. His full name is Maxwell Evans. Second generation alien, like Guerin. He makes apprehensions other bounty hunters only dream about. He gets a little creative sometimes, but hey, that's the way of Mr. Genius."

"Creative?"

"Doesn't always play by the rules…"

An hour later, I sat across from Evans in a downtown café. His straight black hair was slicked back. He was around 5'10" with a muscular neck and a don't-mess-with-me body. I placed him in his late twenties and had to check for drool when I looked at his biceps. He was a God in my eyes.

He leaned back and grinned. "Sooooo, Kyle says I'm supposed to make you into a badarse bounty hunter, says you want a crash course. What's the rush?"

"Personal reasons."

"This is a dangerous profession, those personal reasons better be pretty fucking good."

"What are your reasons?"

He did a palms up gesture. "It's what I do best."

Good answer, I thought. More eloquent then mine. "Maybe someday I'll be good. Right now my motive is steady employment."

Sighing Evans asked, "Well, who are you hunting?"

"Michael Guerin."

He tipped his head back and laughed. "Oh, man! Are you kidding me? You aren't gonna get that guy. This isn't some street punk you're going after. This guys smart and he's good–"

"Kyle says you're good."

"There's me, then there's you, and you aren't ever gonna be as good as me, Sweet Thing."

At the best of times my patience was lacking, and this wasn't nearly the best of times. "Let me make my position clear to you," I said leaning forward. "I'm out of work, had my car repossessed, my refrigerator is empty, I'm going to get kicked out of my apartment and my feet don't fit in these shoes. I haven't got a lot of energy to waste socializing… so are you going to help me or not?"

Max grinned. "This is going to be fun. It'll be like Professor Higgins and Eliza Doolittle Does Roswell."

"What do I call you? Cagier?"

"That's my street name… I'd prefer Professor Evans." He grinned. I folded my arms. "Max will be fine." He added tipping back on his chair and crossing his arms. "You do anything on Guerin yet?"

I mentally choked but realised that was not what he was asking. "Went to his apartment, he wasn't there, but I got lucky, found him in another apartment, by following his cousin."

"And?"

"I got there as he was leaving."

"And?"

"He left."

I could see Max trying to suppress a smile. "I don't suppose you've got a gun?"

"You think I should get one?"

"Might be a good idea." He answered this time unable to conceal the smile. "You know any background on this case?" he asked.

"According to newspaper articles the Valenti's clipped to the bond agreement, the murder took place at night a little over a month ago in an apartment building. Michael had gone to visit Isabel Harding. Michael claimed Isabel had called him concerning a work matter and that when he got to Isabel's apartment, Kathleen Topolsky answered the door and drew on him. Michael claimed he blasted Topolsky in self-defense.

"Isabel's neighbors told a different story though. Several of them rushed into the hall at the sound of the blast and none of them could remember seeing a gun in Topolsky's hand, and the police found no evidence of Topolsky being armed. 

"Michael had placed a guy in Isabel's apartment at the time of the shooting and three of the tenants remembered seeing an unfamiliar face."

"What about Isabel?" Max asked.

"No one could remember seeing Isabel and no ones been able to locate her since."

"Topolsky worked for a guy called Daniel Pierce. That name mean anything to you?"

My shocked stare was answer enough to his question. Pierce was an army hero and a retired sports star. I didn't know much about the army hero part, only that he took on some really bad aliens back in '95 and was still being praised for it. I wasn't even sure if it was true, seemed like the whole thing had been blown out of proportion when people starting calling him 'The Champ' – of course this did nothing for alien/human relations. He was also the fastest guy in the baseball league up until his retirement a year ago, he was know for being able to get a home run on a tiny hit. Now he just does promotions for sports gear and security systems, add to all that the fact that Pierce is considered good looking, and we're talking about a very popular dude.

"What else should I know?"

Max sat forward and his coffee eyes bore into mine. "If you want your money, you better find Guerin fast. Rumour has it that the judicial system is the least of his problems."

"There any rumour why Michael killed Topolsky?"

Max gave me a slow stare. "None. But he must have had a good reason."

"So what are you telling me?"

"I'm telling you to be careful."

"Do you think I can do it?"

"No."

If he was trying to discourage me that was the wrong answer. "Will you help me anyway?"

I slow grin molded his lips. "First we need to get you outfitted. And while we're collecting your hardware I'm going to tell you about the art of hunting…"

I dropped my new black leather shoulder bag onto my apartment floor and sighed. Was I nuts? I had just bought weapons I didn't even want to touch, let alone use them on Michael! The stun gun however had possibilities where he was concerned though… That is if I ever find him again. 

Intuition and desperation told me I would, so I did what any girl would do… call one of her best friends. Alex Whitman. Alex was a Roswell cop and had been one of my very best friends since the day I was born. Liz, Alex and I were inseparable, I was the hyper kid, Liz was the sensible kid and Alex was the nerd kid. We formed a perfect unit and were still just as close. Being such good friends I didn't bother with small-talk and went full pelt into my entire story. Starting from dinner at my mothers right through to the pepper spray I had just bought which I was afraid to have in my apartment incase it leaked and a died… well, the woman at the shop said it was the really heavy duty one, and…

Alex had his voice low because he said he was still at the station but I knew his volume had more to do with concern. "When an alien gets charged with murder it's serious shit. Everybody gets touchy. This sort of case fuels the gap of alien Vs human and raises old suspicious, of why they came… It's the Achilles heal of the state of New Mexico and a black eye lurking around the world. You mention Guerin in the halls here and everybody suddenly remembers they've got something to do. You go after Guerin and you're gonna be swinging on a broken branch, high off the ground and all alone."

"If I bring him in, I get $10 000."

"Buy lottery tickets. Your chances will be better."

"It's my understanding that Michael went to see Isabel Harding, but that Isabel wasn't there when he arrived."

"Not only wasn't she on the scene, but she's disappeared off the face of the earth. People are even suspicious of the fact that she might of went 'home'."

"Isabel's an alien?"

"You didn't know?"

"No."

"That guy Guerin says was in the apartment with Topolsky has vanished as well, that is if he ever existed."

"If Isabel could go 'home' why doesn't Michael? That rumor–"

"Is probably untrue, but it can't be ruled out as a possibility."

"Don't you think this is all really odd Alex?"

"I think it's odder than odd." I could feel Alex shrug over the phone line. "All I know is my cop intuition tells me something doesn't add up."

"Come on Alex, I need help…"

Alex sighed and I think I could hear him belt the phone into his head. "Maria, he's not going to be hiding out with a relative or friend. He's smarter than that. The only thing I can think of is to look for Isabel and the mystery man Guerin said was in the apartment with Topolsky. If _I_ were Guerin, I'd want to get those two missing people. Either to prove my innocence or to make sure they couldn't prove my guilt."

I thanked Alex and hung up. Looking for the witnesses sounded like a good place to re-start. I might even be following the same route as Michael and hopefully our paths would cross again. So what name did I have other then the vanished or dead ones that tied in perhaps with the case? Pierce. He was my only option, my only lead. Damn. I should have taken that job at the button factory!

****

Tbc…

   [1]: http://www.evanovich.com/



	2. (2/7)

PART 2 ****

PART 2

I had rang Kyle early that morning and asked where I'd find Pierce, at first he seemed reluctant to give the information, but when I told him I'd just find it out from someone else and that he shouldn't actually be seen wasting my time he gave it up. 

It seemed Pierce hang out at the local gym; still craving those sporting wonder years. After Kyle I rang mum and thanked her for the dinner last night and said I'd be there tonight. My mother took this opportunity to say that she needed the Jetta but not to worry because my auntie's old Nova was still in the garage. Mum loved me, I told myself, she was not trying to say that every time a borrowed a car other then the Jetta it would come back in worse condition then I had borrowed it in. My mother loved my aunty and she wasn't still bitter over the fact my aunty had ran away with my father twenty years ago…

The gym sat in the middle of its block. Across the street, a shadowy figure pulled back from a filthy third-floor window, the movement catching my eye as I approached the gym. Someone had been watching me. No surprising seeing as though I'd roared down the street not once, but twice. My muffler had fallen off first thing this morning. This wasn't what you'd call an undercover operation. 

I took a wide stance when I entered the gym, more to keep myself from falling over in fright rather than to impress the huge men, which were pumping iron. Hitching up my shoulder bag I kept my voice steady. "I'm looking for Daniel Pierce."

A muscle rose from a workout bench. "I'm Pierce." His voice was silky, his lips curved into a dreamy smile. The overall effect was eerie; his voice and smile at odds with his stealthy, calculating eyes.

I crossed the room and extended my hand. "Maria DeLuca."

His grasp was too gentle, too lingering. More of a caress than a handshake and unpleasantly sensual. There was something about the density of his eyes, black holes where everything gets sucked in and nothing comes out, they suggested a hiding place for evil. And the smile, a little goofy, a little sick in its sweetness, hinting insanity. I made an attempt to free my hand, and his grip tightened.

"So, Maria DeLuca," he said in his velvet voice. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for Michael Guerin. Have you seen him?"

Pierce shook his head and I quickly freed my hand as he did so. "I don't know a Michael Guerin. I only know he blasted Kathleen." He looked around at the rest of the men. "Any of you seen that guy Guerin?"

No one responded. "I've been told there was a witness." I stated. "Do you have any idea who that witness might be?" Again no response, I pushed on. "How about Isabel Harding? Do you know Miss Harding? Did Kathleen Topolsky ever speak of her?"

"You ask a lot of questions." Pierce said scanning my body. I shifted my attention to the building across the street. Again, the shadowy figure in the same third-floor window. Pierce stroked my jacket sleeve. "Would you like a Coke? I could buy you a soda."

"Thanks for the offer, but I have a busy morning. If you spot Guerin, I'd appreciate a call." I gave him my number and as soon as the paper left my hand into his I regretted it.

"Most girls like me to buy them a soda." His voice had turned tight and the civility had slipped from his voice. "I think you're lying about being busy."

I felt tendrils of panic curl into my stomach. Pierce was playing with me. Showing off in front of his friends. Probably stung because I hadn't succumbed to his _charms_. 

I made a display of looking at my watch. "Sorry you feel that way, but I'm supposed to meet Whitman in ten minutes. He's not going to be happy if I'm late."

I took a step back and Pierce grabbed me by the scruff of my neck. "You're not going anywhere, Maria DeLuca," He whispered. "The champ isn't done with you yet."

"Let go of my neck."

"Nobody tells the champ what to do," Pierce roared, his face twisted and ugly showing his true covering, evil within. He grabbed the front of my shirt and I heard the fabric tear.

I heard a crack of a alien-powered weapon, and the windows of the gym shattered. Men were running and shouting, looking for cover. Pierce was among them. I was moving, too, across the floor. I reached the stairs, standing I lunged for the railing. I missed the second steps, to panicked to coordinate my movements and half slid the rest of the way down. 

I dragged myself to my feet and staggered outside into the heat and blinding sunlight. My knees were bleeding and I was hanging onto the door handle, labouring to breathe when a hand clamped onto my upper arm. I jumped and yelped. It was Michael Guerin.

"For chissake," he said, yanking me forward. "Don't just stand there. Haul arse!"

He dragged me forward and the sirens from the gym, pain and fear combined, making me unsure of what direction we were traveling as I clattered after Michael, my chest burning from oxygen deprivation. 

Michael stopped abruptly and jerked me into an empty garage. I was struck by the irony of it. Here I was, after all these years, once again in a garage with Michael Guerin. I could see the anger in his face, hardening his eyes, pinching at the corners of his mouth. He grabbed me by the front of my top and pinned me against the wall.

His voice was tight with barely controlled fury. "What the hell did you think you were doing walking into the gym like that?" He punctuated the end of the question with another body slam, "Answer me!" he ordered.

The pain was all mental. I'd been stupid. And now, to add insult to injury, I was getting bullied by Michael Guerin. It was almost as humiliating as getting rescued by him. "I was looking for you."

"Well congratulations, you found me. You also blew my cover!"

"You were the shadow in the third-floor window…"

Michael didn't say anything. In the dark garage his eyes were solid black coals. He took my shoulder bag from me and looked inside, his eyes then opened wide in astonishment. "You have a gun! Why didn't you use it on Pierce?" It didn't take Michael long to put it together, with a disgusted sigh he said. "If you aren't willing to use it, you shouldn't be carrying it. Where'd you get it from anyway?"

"Max Evans got it for my."

"Cagier? Christ." Shaking his head again Michael then stared at me unblinking and the gaze pinned me to the wall. "Stay away from Pierce. He's nuts. He's been charged with rape on three separate occasions and been acquitted each time because the victim always disappears."

"I didn't know…"

"There's a lot you don't know." God he pissed me off! He was such a jerk! I grabbed my bag from his grasp and headed for the garage door. Michael pulled me back and motioned to the other garage door muttering. "You're hopeless, you were like this as a little kid too."

That did it! I pushed him against the wall and snarled, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Michael pushed off the wall and got right in my face. "You were nuts, you'd do anything. You used to jump off your mother's garage, trying to fly."

"Didn't you ever try to fly?"

"No. Never. I knew I couldn't fly." He opened the door and motioned for me to go through. 

As I did I snootily remarked. "That's because from the day you were born, you had a one-track mind."

Following me out of the door he grinned. "It's true. My interests were narrow."

Scowling at him I realised suddenly that he had taken me directly to my car. "You tricked innocent little girls into your fathers garage, so you could look in their underpants."

Michael slouched against the Nova. "Let's be truthful here, you were hardly tricked. You practically knocked me over trying to get into my garage."

"That's because you said you were going to teach me how to play choo-choo."

Michael rocked back on his heels and his grin widened. "And I kept my word." He then stopped grinning as he saw my ripped shirt. "Get off my case, I have enough problems without having to worry about saving your arse."

"No one asked you to save my arse. I would have saved my own arse if you hadn't interfered."

"Honey, you couldn't find your arse with both hands."

"Eat dirt and die." I replied haughtily getting into the Nova.

Michael tipped his head back and laughed out loud. His laughter was deep and rich and infections, and if I hadn't been so distraught, I'd have laughed along with him. As it was, I turned the key in the ignition, gave the dash a good hard smack and left him choking in a cloud of exhaust and a blast of noise that had the potential to liquefy his insides.

It was only five minutes later when I realised I was meant to take him with me. Who was I kidding? The only way I'd get Michael would be if I happened to stumble across him cuffed and gagged. I had stumbled onto him twice; hey it could happen again. Yeah, and maybe a blue BMW would drop out of the sky just for me.

Back at my apartment that night a looked myself over, I wasn't a complete mess. I nice shower, some trusty band-aids and I'd be fine, thanks to Michael… goddamn him! 

He had this annoying habit of just popping up and making me have totally inconvenient feelings. Like when he had been angry with me I had secretly wanted him to kiss me. Ugh! What the hell am I doing? I'm meant to be catching the bad guy and then turning him in, not wanting him to repeat those soft caresses and… ugh! I am going mad, maybe it's the lack of food. 

As a teenager Michael had been feral. Two years in the navy and seven more as an adult had taught him control, but I was convinced nothing short of the removing of his gonads would ever completely domesticate him. There was always a barbarous part of Michael that hummed beneath the surface. I found myself helplessly sucked in by it, and at the same time it scared the hell out of me.

Someone tapped on my front door. I wasn't expecting anyone. Most of my neighbours were seniors and at the moment I must truthfully say – I wasn't playing train, and hadn't for a long time.

The tapping continued. I looked through the peephole and saw nothing but blackness. Someone had a finger on my peephole. Not a good sign. "Who's there?" I called.

A whisper of laughter filtered through the doorframe and I jumped back. The laughter was followed by a single word. "Maria." The voice was unmistakable. 

It was melodic and taunting. It was Pierce. "I've come to play with you, Maria," he sang. 

I felt fear swell in my chest and my knees became numb. "Go away!"

Pierce's voice cut through the door. "Don't like having unfinished business with a woman, Maria DeLuca."

The closest thing I've come to an out-of-body experience was when Michael Guerin took his mouth to me nine years ago, behind the Crashdown counter, so up until this moment, I hadn't realised an out-of-body experience could be one with a sole basis of fear. My head had begun to pound and I could almost feel him smiling through the door.

Pierce tried the doorknob and for a gut-cramping moment my heart leapt to my throat. The door held. I did some deep controlled breathing to lower my heart that was lodged still in my throat and decided the best course of action was simply to ignore him. 

I shut and locked my windows and drew the drapes tight. I got my gun, thanking Max as I held it to my chest and went back to the peephole for another look. The peephole was uncovered, and the hallway seemed empty. Ear to the door I listened. Nothing. I slid the bolt and cracked the door, leaving my mega-chain firmly attached and my gun at the ready. 

No Pierce in sight. 

Unhooking the chain I peeked out into the hall. He was definitely gone.

A splot of some noxious substance sliding down my door caught my eye. I gagged, closed the door and locked and chained it. Two days on the job and a world-class psycho had just jerked off on my door.

I had been bumming food off my mum for the past couple days and luckily before the psycho incident last night I had secured food from having dinner at her place for the following morning.

Unfortunately food had seemed a really good idea after Mr. Cum had payed me a visit and I had been up half the night eating the leftovers, so again, I had nothing for breakfast.

Last night in my insomniac state I had devised I plan to go to Isabel's Harding place and talk to her neighbours, with the pathetic hope of running into Michael again.

I pulled into traffic and refused to check my rear-view mirror for telltale clouds of smoke. The Nova is fine I chanted on my way to Isabel's, of course nobody could see the great big painted 'Pussy Car' tag on both sides of the car, a reminder of last night's visit by Pierce that I had discovered this morning.

Isabel lived a few blocks east of the gym. Not a great neighbourhood, but not the worst, either. Her apartment was on the second floor. The yellow crime-scene tape had been removed, but a padlock was in place. There were two other apartments on the second floor. I knocked on each door. No one home on the first. Ms. Osorio, a woman somewhere in her late fifties answered the second door with a baby on her hip.

"I don't know really what I can tell you," she said. "This Isabel only lived here a short time. No one really knew her. She was quiet and kept to herself."

"Have you seen her since that night?"

"No. I know she worked in a bar though, called the Takedown next to the Roswell gym. Maybe somebody knew her there." She answered rocking the baby gently.

"Were you home that night?"

"Yes. It was late and Isabel had the television on very loud… I was trying to get my sister's grandkids to sleep and there was loud banging on Isabel's door, and then a very loud blast, woke everyone in the building. That's when I called the police."

"What happened then?"

"Well, it was all so noisy, there was so much commotion, you understand? I had never heard a sound like that… we were all so um worried, we were lucky Hal Carver was there, took matters into his own hands, he did."

"There was supposedly a man in Isabel's apartment. Did you see him?"

"I guess so. There was a man I didn't know. Funny face, never saw him before. Had a face like a frying pan, real flat nose, that's why I noticed him."

"What happened to him?"

Ms. Osorio shrugged, "Don't know. Guess he left just like Isabel." I could tell she was beginning to get impatient, the noise from her apartment rose and I guessed she had at least three other kids in her home. "You might be able to get more from Hal, he seemed to be the only calm one that night, he should be home, he's in between jobs at the moment, got a bit of a sore knee, apartment 4B."

I thanked her and walked up two more flights of stairs, wondering what kind of person would be willing and able to disarm an alien…

I knocked on 4B, the door was thrown open and my question was answered. 6'4" at the least, 150 or so kilos, grey hair tied in a ponytail… a war veteran for sure. "Hal Carver?"

He squinted down at me. "What can I go for you sweetie?"

"I'm trying to get a lead on Michael Guerin. I was hoping you could tell me something about Isabel Harding."

"I didn't know her real good," he said. "I'd seen her around, a hot to trot kinda woman, even said hello to me a couple times… I was coming up the stairs when I heard the blast."

"Ms. Osorio, on the second floor–"

"Betty." Hal corrected nodding.

"Yes um, Betty said that you subdued Mr Guerin."

"Yeah, didn't know he was an alien, but then again I never did hear a blast like that before. There were a lot of people coming into the hall and he was telling them to stay away and calm down, and everyone was saying to him that he was a murdering spacey… so I hit him with a six-pack. Knocked him out cold."

The police report had stated that Michael had been hit with a blunt instrument. It hadn't said anything about a six-pack, I checked my smile though. "That was very brave."

Hal grinned. "Hell, bravery didn't have anything to do with it. I had had a little bit of liquor and well… you know."

He had been pissed, that explained further about Mr. Carver's bravery… "Do you know what happened to Isabel?"

"Guess she left in the scuffle, I didn't see her though."

"How about the missing male witness? Betty said he had a flat nose."

Hal gave a little chuckle. "Oh Betty would say something like that." He sniggered, then realising I was waiting for an answer said. "I remember seeing him too, but that's about it, couldn't draw you a picture like Betty could, but if I saw him again I could place him. I think Milton Ross was the only other person who got a good look at the guy."

"Is Mr. Ross a tenant here?"

"Milton _was_ a tenant here. Got hit by a car last week, hit and run, right in front of this here building." I thanked Hal for his time and he commented on my pretty dress.

When I was outside my stomach gave a nervous flutter and I realised that it was due to the fact I was still enjoying the buzz from Hal's secondary smoke and that I hadn't asked him if he thought Milton's death tied in with Topolsky's… 

It was noon now and Michael's apartment was next on my list. 

Michael's apartment… All I could think was – 'I'm going into Spiderman's lair'. Well I guess I would just need Batman to help me out.

****

Tbc…


	3. (3/7)

PART 3 ****

PART 3

When I pulled into the lot, Max was waiting. He was all in black. Even his car was black – a mercedes with enough antennae on it to reach his origins.

Parking several spaces away so my exhaust wouldn't tarnish his finish I asked if he owned the car. He gave me a look that said 'As if anyone else would own this car' and said, "Life's been good to me." His eyes then slid to the Nova. "Nice paint job." 

I grimaced and Max nodded towards Michael's apartment. "Doesn't look like Guerin's home, so we'll have to do the unguided tour."

"Is that illegal?"

"Hell no. Bounty hunters don't need a search warrant babe."

Max and I crossed the lot and walked through the breezeway to Michael's apartment. We got to Michael's door and Max slid his palm across the lock. The door clicked open.

"I could never do stuff like that."

"So you do other stuff, like you just ask the super for a key." Duh.

Michael's apartment was relatively clean and sparsely furnished. Max and I searched through the rooms one by one. As I searched I imagined Michael at home in his apartment, tossing his key onto the kitchen counter, kicking off his shoes – it was easy to imagine.

In his bedroom there was an old drawing pad that poked out from under his bed. As I searched the pages it became clear – I didn't really know Michael, only the physical Michael and what had hurt all these years was the fact that I hadn't been given the chance to know the other Michael. 

Opening Michael's dresser I came upon another sketch pad, with drawings of two huge green eyes, there were dozens of drawings of them, all the same, sparkling green eyes, full of emotion, textural and expressive. 

They seized my heart. 

No face, just eyes, the remembrance of a memory? 

Max luckily diverted me from my next progressional thought.

"Nothing here," Max said. I wandered back into the lounge-room to find Max hovered over Michael's answering machine. 

Max pushed the playback button. "Hi Mickey G," a female voice cooed. "This is Courtney. Give me a call back." Beep. "Michael, it's Courtney Banks again. Are you there? Guess not. I call back would be good." Beep.

Max turned the machine over and copied the security code and special message code. "You take these numbers and you can access his messages from an outside phone. Maybe something useful will turn up."

We checked all the rooms again. Nothing useful. No pictures of Isabel or anyone besides family, no personal pads other then the sketch pad which I had told myself had only _accidentally_ fallen into my shoulder bag.

"This place is clean," Max said. He lifted a set of keys from a small hook on the kitchen wall and dropped them into my hand. "Hang on to these. So if you want to come back, no sense bothering the super. Guerin won't be back, looks to me like he took everything he needed."

"So babe, now what's your plan?" Max asked outside Michael's apartment.

My eyes flickered to Michael's new red and gold Jeep Cherokee. "Guess I'll keep searching."

Driving Michael's car was great. It had new car smell; a smell I hadn't smelt in awhile, it also had a car phone. While I'm at it I mo'swell run up Michael's phone bill. 

I called Kyle. "Did you catch Guerin?"

"No, but I've confiscated his car."

"Has it got a sun roof?"

I rolled my eyes skyward. "No sun roof."

"Bummer," Kyle answered.

"Kyle I need a favour…"

"Oh boy."

"I just need some cash, maybe an advanced on the Guerin fee…"

"DeLuca." Kyle sighed. I knew I was pushing it and Kyle knew it too, his voice had held warning.

"I made sooooo much progress today though." I exaggerated.

"How much?"

"I have a plan."

"Oh boy."

I told Kyle my recently formed plan about luring Michael out with his car, getting him edgy, ready to make a mistake.

"Nice plan babe," Kyle said somewhat impressed. "But Guerin doesn't make mistakes, he won't care about his wheels."

Kyle didn't know Michael Guerin as well as I thought he had.

"Trust me, I know how to piss Guerin off."

Silence, Kyle was thinking.

"I'll advance you $100."

Perfect. "Thanks Kyle…"

"Wait a minute. There's a catch."

I waited… "If you haven't caught Guerin in a week, you give up the case."

Bastard. "Deal." I lied. 

I drove around for awhile after I had disconnected with Kyle.

I searched, well cruised around listening to Michael's Metallica CD, and doing a bit of air punching for two hours, this was a rocking car. 

No blue vans.

Fine, I'm going home.

A faded blue van caught my eye on the other side of the intersection. 

The car had four antennae's. 

A lot of equipment for a shoddy old van… 

I squinted at the driver, shadowy behind tinted glass and an eerie feeling crept along the nape of my neck. The lights turned green and cars moved through the intersection and the van rolled by. 

My heart jumped out of my throat as I saw Michael Guerin gaping at me in astonishment behind the wheel.

In theory, I should have been pleased to make contact, but the instant reality had caused an anxiety attack. I was good at fantasising about Michael's recovery. I wasn't so confident when it came to actually pulling it off. 

Brakes squealed behind me and in my rearview mirror I saw the van jump the curb to complete a mid-block U-turn.

I'd expected he'd come after me. I hadn't expected him to do it with such speed. Michael was six cars back when I stopped for a light. I saw the driver's door open, saw Michael get out of the van and start running towards me. He was almost on me when we all moved forward and he was forced to go back to the van.

I left-turned towards the police station when the car phone chirped. It was Michael and he didn't sound happy. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he yelled.

"I'm going to the police station. You're more than welcome to follow me." A pretty ballsy reply, considering I was about to drop the phone in terror.

"THAT'S MY CAR YOU'RE DRIVING!"

"Mmmmm. Well. I've commandeered it."

"You've WHAT?" 

I flipped the switch and shut the phone off before the conversation deteriorated into death threats.

The van disappeared from my sight two blocks from the station. I drove around some more but there was no sign of the van. That didn't mean much. Michael could be driving whatever now. Michael was however giving me the courtesy of not being obvious. That meant he took me moderately seriously. It was a cheery thought that prompted me to rise to the occasion with a plan. Go home, park the car, wait in the bushes with my heavy duty pepper spray and then zap him with my stun gun when he tried to reclaim his car.

I sat in the bushes and tried to define Michael and my relationship. After two hours I figured the Crashdown and the Jetta incident pretty much summed it up. Lustful insanity.

After another hour of waiting I thought thinking about Michael was detrimental to my health so taking the distributor cap off the car I hid it in the bushes where I had been hiding and went up to my apartment.

In the shower I was distracted by a blur of colour on the other side of the translucent, soap-slicked shower curtain. The blur moved and my heart momentarily stopped dead in my chest. 

Someone was in my bathroom. 

The shock was numbing but my insides rolled. 

Pierce.

The intruder crossed the room in two strides and ripped the shower curtain off the rod with such force the plastic loops at the top popped off and scattered. I screamed and blindly threw the shampoo bottle.

It wasn't Pierce. It was Michael Guerin, who had a welt forming on his forehead where the bottle had made contact and he was beyond angry. Fine by me. I was spoiling for a fight. I was furious that he'd violated my privacy and I was panicked because I was butt-naked. 

Under the right circumstances naked was fine. 

Standing in front of a fully clothed Michael while dripping wet was however stuff nightmares were made of.

I shut the water off and grabbed at a towel, but Michael slapped my hand away and threw the towel onto the floor behind him.

"Give me that towel." I demanded.

"Not until we've gotten a few things straightened out."

As a kid, Michael had been out of control. I'd reached the conclusion that as an adult Michael had control in spades. Temper was still there, but the amount of violence displayed was tightly calculated. It wasn't difficult to envision Michael killing, but I found myself agreeing with Max and Alex Whitman – the grown-up Michael was not stupid and impulsive.

He was wearing a black rain-drenched T-shirt and jeans. His hair wet. His mouth hard and unsmiling. "Where's my distributor cap?"

When in doubt, always take the offensive. "If you don't get out of my bathroom I'll start screaming."

"It's one o'clock in the morning. Scream away."

I stood my ground and scowled at him. It was my best effort at defiance.

"I'm going to ask you one more time…"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Listen Cupcake, I'll tear this place apart if I have to."

"I'm not your cupcake."

"Why me?" he asked. "What did I do to deserve this?"

I raised an eyebrow.

Michael sighed. "Yeah," he said. "I know." He took my shoulder bag from the floor and poured the contents to the floor. Picking up the cuffs he took a step forward. "Give me your wrist."

"Pervert."

"You wish." Before I had a chance to move away he flicked the cuff out and clicked it onto my right wrist, locking the remaining steel bracelet onto the shower curtain rod. Michael stepped back and looked at me, doing a whole body scan. "You want to tell me where the cap is?"

I froze, unable to believe what just happened.

"Wonderful," Michael said. "Do the silent thing. You can hang there forever for all I care."

Michael stormed out of the bathroom without giving me a second glance and I heard him methodically moving through my apartment. There were sporadic patches of quiet, followed by mutterings.

After what seemed like ages Michael appeared in the bathroom doorway.

"Well?" I snapped, "now what?"

He indolently leaned against the frame. "Just came back to take another look." A grin surfaced at the corners of his mouth as his eyes locked halfway down my chest. "Cold?"

He was going to pay for this. "Go to hell."

The grin widened. "You're lucky I'm such a gentleman. There are individuals out there who'd take advantage of a woman in your situation." He shifted off the doorjamb. "It's been a pleasure honey."

"You're not leaving, are you? What about me? What about the handcuffs?" 

He stepped in to the kitchen and returned with my portable phone. "I'm sure you'll think of something," Michael said. "Call the police, hell, call the fucking marines!"

"I'm naked!"

He smiled doing another full body scan, winked and walked out the door.

Bastard!

Who to call?

Someone with a key… no one had a key but my mother (mental cringe), okay then, someone that could get into a locked apartment without a key… Max.

Shit.

I held the phone and dialed. Michael would die for this!

"Speak."

"Max?"

"Who wants to know?"

"Maria Deluca, I have a problem."

Two beats went by and I could feel him coming alert, sitting up in bed, his eyes suddenly awake. "What's the problem?"

"I'm handcuffed to my shower curtain rod, and I need someone to open the cuffs."

I heard a disconnect - He didn't believe me! I called again. "What?"

"Don't hang up, I'm serious Max."

"Ring the cops, they love rescue shit."

"I'm sort of naked."

"Heh, heh, heh."

"It's not funny! Michael broke into my apartment while I was in the shower and the prick handcuffed me to the shower rod."

"You gotta love the guy."

I'd been standing in the tub for what seemed like hours when I heard my front door open and close; Max appeared in the doorway. 

I was too relieved to be embarrassed. "I appreciate this Max."

Max smiled. "Didn't want to miss seeing you chained up and naked."

"The keys are in the mess on the floor."

Max found the keys and let me loose. "You and Guerin got something kinky going on?"

"Remember when you gave me his keys this afternoon?"

"Un huh."

"I sort of borrowed his car."

"Borrowed?"

"Commandeered, actually."

Max smiled and handed me a towel. "He understand about commandeering?"

"Not really. Anyway I removed the distributor cap as a safety precaution."

"I'm betting that was the part that went over big."

I walked out of the bathroom and surveyed my messed apartment. I needed to do something that would piss Michael off further, push his buttons. "I need to install an alarm system in his car."

Max laughed soft and low in his chest. "An alarm system. Guerin'll love that."

I padded past him and into my bedroom to exchange the towel for a robe. "You want a number of a good alarm garage?" He asked.

My sleep was deep and dreamless, and I might have slept forever if it weren't for the relentless pounding on my door. I picked my pepper spray off the dressing table incase it was Pierce and dragged myself to look in the peephole. 

Alex Whitman looked back at me.

He was in uniform and holding a doughnut bag. I opened the door and sniffed the air like a hound. "Yum." I breathed realising I was finally going to get breakfast.

"Hello to you too," Alex said squeezing past me. "Where's your furniture?"

I narrowed my eyes and Alex chuckled giving me the doughnut bag.

We were good enough friends that we didn't have to talk while we ate. After the doughnuts Alex sipped his coffee and said. "You're prime conversation in Roswell these days. The boys even have a pool going on when you'll get boinked by Guerin."

"How will they know when I'm boinked?" I asked through clenched teeth, not looking at Alex incase I kill him with my eyeballs that were going to pop out of my head.

"They figure you'll quit the case when you get boinked. The winning time is actually when you quit the case."

"You in the pool?" I asked, this time looking directly at him, not really caring if I killed him with my eyeballs.

"Nope. Guerin nailed you in high school. I don't think you'd let a second boinking go to your head."

I nodded in agreement. 

When we were kids Alex lived two houses down from me. All his life he'd wanted to be a cop and marry Liz. Now he was a cop and his desire for Liz had already ended in high school when they kissed and were both really grossed out. Alex was a good guy; he enjoyed responding to emergencies, being first on a scene. He was papa bear, really good at comforting people all the while staying real, natural.

"I've got some information for you," he said after a while. "I went to the Crashdown last night for a drink with Liz and Gus Moss was there. Moss if the PC working on the Topolsky case."

"PC?"

"Plainclothesman, detective."

"What did he say?"

"He confirmed that Isabel was an informant. Moss let slip that Guerin had a card on her."

"A card?"

"She would give him information on bad alien/human relations. Informants are kept secret."

"Maybe the killing ties in to something Guerin had been working on."

"Could be. Could also be that it didn't have anything to do with work at all. I understand Isabel's very beautiful."

"And she's still missing?"

"Yeah," Alex glanced at his watch and stood. "I gotta go."

"Thanks for the doughnuts and info."

Alex paused in the hallway. "You need money?" 

"I'm doing okay." Thanks to Kyle.

Alex gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "If you feel you're in over your head, you can tell me, I'll support you."

"You mean you'll go and enter the boinking pool."

Alex gave a chuckle. "That's my tiger."

He then left and I felt tears pool behind my eyes. Friendship chokes me up, especially Alex's. In Roswell you only ever have a few friends and so the one's that you make when you're young are friends for life.

****

Tbc…


	4. (4/7)

PART 4 ****

PART 4

After I exchanged a few sexist comments with Kyle and got the cash he had promised me, I thought I'd go visit my other life-friend in Roswell ~ Liz Parker.

Liz was sensible, dark and classy.

All the things I was not, in other words.

She had small features, except for her big brown eyes… which soaked you in. 

Those eyes worked out if you were happy, unhappy… and of course *lying* in my case.

She was the type of friend that when she found out you were lying wouldn't hold it against you, she would bring it up constantly though.

"How's it going with Michael? You able to get a fix on him?" Liz asked as she unaware sunk lower in his car's passenger seat.

"Not exactly a fix, but I know he's still in town." I had coaxed her into the 'Michael search' under the guise of spending more time with her.

"He's a serious babe," Liz replied for the billionth time in her 26 years of existence. She glanced at me, I could tell by the diamonds in her eyes that she was remembering the Crashdown scenario. "Saw him six months ago, before all this happened… Did all I could to keep from sinking my teeth into his butt."

"Sounds very carnivorous."

"The man in fine. You know it too."

"I also know he's accused of murder."

Liz didn't by my hard-arse answer for a second. Grinning she put her silky brown hair into a ponytail and said. "Gonna be a lot of women in Roswell unhappy to see Guerin on ice." She then gave me her and-you're-one-of-them smile.

She was wrong though. After last night my humiliated and vindictive heart only had cozy feelings at the thought of him locked up. And just to prove it to Miss Know-it-all I took her along with me to install a car alarm in Michael's car.

Max sized us up as we approached the caryard and Liz moved closer to me. She was such a nervous-nilly at times. However looking at Max's authoritarian stance and dark mysterious eyes I understood her reaction. This guy was… well… damn hot! And that made him scary! 

"Why did you wanna meet here?" I asked.

Max eyed Liz and gave me a grin. "Nervous?"

"Why would I be nervous?" I snapped, annoyed at how easily he had been able to read me.

Max glanced at Liz. "The bodyguard."

This pissed me off I was ten times the psycho Liz was! I can't believe I just thought that… mental blush and annoyance.

"Liz. Max, Max. Liz." I grumbled.

Max nodded, and Liz nodded back. Great I was in the middle of a conversation with two silent types. 'Silent types' were a dying breed and I could tell these two were probably the last two of their kind. Well in that case I'm glad I brought them together. Maybe they could procreate...

Liz caught my grin and blushed. 

I inwardly laughed and we went about putting the alarm in. After Max had showed me, well technically Liz by the way she was paying more attention, how to set it and stuff he straightened up and smiled.

"We meet here because this type of device is illegal." Max explained unnecessarily.

"Max we're not scared of you, however much you'd like us to be." I retorted earning me another smile.

Alex's words of finding witnesses echoed through my mind, so we drove over to Stark Street. I parked directly across from the gym, guzzled Liz's orange juice and set my new alien-proof alarm. If anyone knew Isabel Harding, it would be someone here.

I noticed a bubbly little blonde hooker on the corner and overcoming Liz's protests we wandered over for a chat.

"Hey girl," The lively blonde called out. "This here's my corner, you dig?"

"Great," Liz muttered. "I look like a damn hooker…"

As we came closer to her Liz pulled her skirt lower and slouched forward slightly to make her really quite minimal boobs recede.

"I'm looking for a friend. Michael Guerin." I showed the animated hookers Michael's casual picture from Kyle's file. "You seen him?"

"What you want with this Guerin guy?"

"It's personal."

"I bet." She smirked.

"You know him?"

She shifted her weight. "Maybe."

Okay different angle. "Actually, we're more than friends."

"How much more?" She asked and Liz seemed to hold the hookers same level of curiosity, from different view points though.

"The son of a bitch got me pregnant." Liz turned away so she wouldn't look at my straight face and giggle.

The short blonde seemed to consider me. "There's things you can do about that…"

"Yeah," I said. "And number one is to find the father. You know where he is?"

"Nuh uh."

"You know someone named Isabel Harding? She worked at the Takedown."

"She get you pregnant too?"

"Thought Guerin might be with her."

"Isabel's disappeared," she answered glancing at the ground. "It's an environmental hazard to us aliens."

The bubbly blonde hooker was an alien. Liz seemed shocked by this, I was too, but I didn't take a step back like Liz. 

The alien hooker glanced at Liz and then turned her attention back to me. "I don't have time for this." 

That was odd because I couldn't see any 'work' in sight. She was giving me the heave-ho.

Writing down my number I told her my name and said I'd appreciate a call if she saw Michael or Isabel. I asked her name and she looked at me strangely, like she couldn't comprehend why anyone would want to know that. 

"Tess." Was her soft reply before she practically ran away.

"Jeez you can't tell who is and who isn't an alien now days." Liz said watching Tess' retreating form.

"Could you ever?"

"No." Liz sighed.

"Do you reckon that there could be different types of aliens?"

Liz looked at me confused. "Yeah… anything's possible in Roswell. What brought that thought on?"

She knew though, and the reason had spiky hair. "It's just I've only really ever met 5 aliens, and well they all have um different vibes…" I tried to explain.

"What do you mean?" Liz asked as we wandered back to the jeep, which I was annoyingly becoming attached to.

"Michael, Tess and Max give out this sort of annoying 'safe' vibe, whereas do you remember those two aliens guys from High School, they were kinda um scary if you know what I mean."

I looked over at Liz to try and verify that I was making sense but all I got was a Liz-deep-in-her-own-thoughts.

"Liz?"

"Oh… um yeah I actually get what your saying… those two didn't um 'act' like Michael and stuff… they were even pretty nasty to him…" She stuttered by way of a replied.

I eyed her curiously and we got into the car.

Outside the Crashdown she eventually spilt her mind. "I just didn't know Max was um you know…"

"You weren't expected too." I smiled gently still watching her movements. Liz levered herself out of the car and lingered with the door open. "What's up chica?"

"I'm just, worried about you… Pierce coming around to your place and this all involving Michael…" Her eyes flickered to the Crashdown and a grin appeared on her face. I narrowed my eyes and her grin widened. "Just um, be more careful babe." 

Leaving Liz with a snotty remark and her barking with laughter, I understood her concern. This Michael chase seemed to be part of a bigger problem and it was like the key was buzzing right in front of me. 

Ignoring her 'careful' warning I headed back to see if I could locate that Tess again. I got this strange vibe that she was a little fearful of Liz and I together so I hoped if I just went back it wouldn't be so intimidating as two humans had obviously been. 

I also was hoping I'd see Michael again and be able to buzz his arse with my Max-inspired stun gun.

As soon as I had set the car alarm a woman came hurrying across the street to me. "Excuse me," She said. "Are you Maria DeLuca?"

"Yes."

"Mr Necedo would like to speak to you," she said. "His office is just across the street."

I didn't know anyone named Necedo and wasn't eager to hover in the shadows of Daniel Pierce out on the street, however I was out of leads and had I firm belief that if I got into trouble again Michael would pop up – and wasn't that my main objective?

A man in his late forties leaned forward as I entered the office and extended his hand. "Ed Necedo. I manage Daniel Pierce." 

I nodded not sure how to respond, shrieking was unfortunately not an option, but it was the only one I could think of doing. "I wanted to take this opportunity to apologise. I know what happened in the gym…"

His apology stirred anger. "Pierce's behaviour was unprovoked and inexcusable."

Necedo looked embarrassed. "I never thought I'd have problems like this," he sighed. "If Pierce bothers you again, you let me know right away. I don't like when this kind of stuff happens."

I stared at him in stony silence and remembered what Michael had told me about Pierce and his previous rape charges. 

Necedo either had his head in the Roswell desert or was engaged in client clean-up duty, he was also a tad scary. It was like this guy was really nasty but able to hide it effectually under the guise of noticeable naivete. 

"He came to my apartment the night before last and tried to get in. Was abusive in the hall and left a mess on my door. If it happens again I'm filing charges."

Necedo was visibly shaken. He took a card from his desk draw and gave it to me. "That's my home phone," he said. "You have any more trouble and you call me straight away."

"Just keep him away from me." Necedo pressed his lips together and nodded. "I don't suppose you know anything about Isabel Harding?"

"Only what I read in the papers."

The rest of my day was spent getting bolts for my door and thinking Necedo wasn't all that trustworthy and looking for Michael's blue van. 

The next day I would talk to Tess again, she seemed interesting enough. Maybe it was just because of the alien thing though. I have to acknowledge that aliens do this to me everytime. They're my weakness, totally intriguing for a gal like me. I knew of four aliens, Isabel, Michael, Max and Tess and had to admit they all intrigued the hell out of me.

The following day I headed back over to Tess' corner in Michael's car and only parked when I saw her sitting down on the curb. 

"Still looking for Guerin?" She asked as I approached.

"No, only his van," I smiled. "You seen it?"

"Don't know nothing about a van. Lately Guerin's been driving a car like yours." Her eyes widened. "Sheee-it, that ain't Guerin's car, is it?"

"I sort of borrowed it," Tess' face spilt into a grin and mine followed suit. "A couple days ago I saw him driving a faded blue van, it had antennae sticking out all over the place. You see anything like that?"

"Tell me the truth now… you really pregnant?" Tess asked.

"No, but I could have been." Nine years ago.

Tess cocked an eyebrow and I told her all about the Bounty Hunter gig, Kyle Valenti, the $10 000 paycheck, the lot; she was really easy to talk to, a really good listener.

"I could do that," She said when I was done. "Maybe I should change my profession."

I left Tess soon after her assurance she hadn't seen the van and went to my mothers for dinner. Over dinner I nearly catapulted my pasta out of my nostrils when she said. "You had a phone call this morning from that nice young man you went to see. Daniel, so polite…" 

"What did he want?" I asked my fork trembling at the thought he had actually took time to find out where my mother lived.

"He said he'd been trying to get in touch with you, but your phone had been disconnected," Thank heaven for unpaid phone bills. "I told him it was okay now though, I went to the company today and payed your bill." My mother beamed and my stomach lurched.

"Daniel Pierce is a sleaze. If he calls again, don't talk to him."

"He was polite to me on the phone." I mentally banged my head against the wall.

After I left mum's house I was driving slowly back to my apartment, wondering how I was going to nail Michael, in the purely law enforcement sense when a blue van come into my line of vision. Mentally patting myself on the back I followed the van, carefully keeping a good distance behind it so as not to spook him. This went on for a couple of minutes until all of a sudden the van vanished. Damn.

Cruising around for awhile annoyed, I couldn't believe my luck when I saw his van parked in the back parking lot of the local Deli.

Parking four cars away I was about to get out when the driver's side door was ripped open and I was yanked from behind the wheel. I stumbled forward, slamming into the wall of Michael's chest.

"Looking for me?" he asked.

"You might as well give up," I told him. "Because I never will."

The line of his mouth tightened. "Suppose I lay down on the pavement and you run over me a few times… just for old times. Do you get your money dead or alive?"

"No reason to get testy. It's nothing personal."

"Nothing personal? You're telling people I've gotten you pregnant! Jesus, isn't it enough I'm accused of murder?"

"You're overwrought."

"I'm beyond overwrought. Everyone has a cross to bear… you're mine." His eyes flicked to the car interior. "You're not making phone calls, are you?"

"No. Of course not."

"Shit," he said. "My life is shit."

"Probably just a phase."

His expression softened. "I like this outfit you're wearing." He said hooking a finger around my wide collar and looking inside at my cream bra. "Very sexy."

A flash of heat shot through my stomach and I told myself it was anger. "Don't be rude." I replied smacking his hand away.

"Well hell, I've made you pregnant, remember?" He moved closer. "One more little intimacy shouldn't bother you." 

He lowered his mouth and kissed me.

I should have kneed him, but the kiss was delicious. Michael Guerin still knew how to kiss. Starting slow and tender then ending hot and deep. He pulled back and smiled, I knew I'd been had.

"Gotcha," he said.

"Dick breath."

He reached around me and removed the keys from the ignition. He then walked to a nearby Dumpster and threw the keys inside. "Happy hunting," he said, heading for the van. "Make sure you wipe your feet before you get into my car."

"Wait a minute," I yelled after him. "I want to know about Pierce and Topolsky."

He hitched himself up into the van and drove away.

I stared at the Dumpster, a lesser woman would have burst into tears, and a smarter woman would have an extra set of keys… I however hoped into the Dumpster making up some pretty damn creative swear words.

After what seemed like an eternity I discovered the keys sunk into some yellow-brown glop. Chanting that it was 'just mustard' I threw the keys out of the Dumpster and quickly followed suit.

Newspapers had been stacked for recycling beside the Dumpster and I used it to wipe off the keys.

A headline jumped out at me. 'Local Man Killed in Drive-by Shooting.' Beneath the headline was a picture of Hal Carver. 

I'd seen him on Wednesday. Today was Friday. 

The paper in my hand was a day old. I read the story without breathing. Carver had been gunned down late Wednesday night in front of his apartment building. 

It went on to say how he'd been a hero in the war, getting the purple heart and how he was a colourful, well-liked neighbourhood figure. As of press time, the police had no suspects and no motive.

I leaned against the Cherokee, trying to absorb the reality of Hal Carver's death. He'd been so alive when I'd spoken to him, and now he was very dead. 

First Milton Ross, the hit and run, and now Hal. Of the three people who'd seen and remembered the missing witness, two were dead. 

I thought about Betty Osario and shivered. When I got back to my apartment I'd call Alex to get some reassurance of Betty's safety.

I'd just locked my apartment door behind me when the phone rang. The voice was muffled, so that I had to strain to hear, squinting at the handset as if that would help.

Fear is not a logical emotion. No one can physically hurt me on the phone, but I flinched all the same when I realised it was Pierce.

"Saw you talking to that alien whore Tess Maria. Didn't like it, maybe I'll deliver you a special present so you'll talk to me to, or maybe I'll just make you beg…"

I immediately hung up and when the phone rang again I snapped the plug from the wall. I needed an answering machine pronto. 

Going out to Michael's car I used the phone to call Max and make my answering Machine request.

"Yo," Max said after two rings.

"I have a problem." I said by way of a hello.

A beat went by. "Are you naked?"

I narrowed my eyes at the phone "No." 

"Too bad." I could hear him grinning over the phone.

****

Tbc…


	5. (5/7)

PART 5 ****

PART 5

After explaining to Professor Evans about Pierce, Max gave me an answering machine as a present. Leaving my house he said he 'could stay' if I wanted him to but I declined saying superman wasn't needed. He had smirked and said if I wanted him to be superman that I'd have to spend the night with him.

Mentally blushing while I felt my stomach drop six inches I had played with my jumper sleeve. 'Cute' He had said before some eye narrowing from me.

Max was a good guy. You could feel the loyalty and humanity rolling off him in waves. As thanks for the answering machine I had given him a Crashdown voucher for a free lunch. I such an angel.

Hoping he would use the voucher and run into a certain friend while there, I watched him scan my apartment with his eyes, checking out possible problems. He had left soon after and I decided that in the morning I'd go for a run, by way of giving myself a pep talk.

I really hated running. It was the worst kind of torture. I could out-walk anyone in say a Mall, but make me run for no purpose other then shedding fat and you've got a tough case in front of you.

In the morning I slogged through the first mile then realised I wasn't really designed to run.

When I got back to my apartment and waited for my vision to clear, feeling so bloody healthy I could hardly stand myself I noticed Alex Whitman pulling up to the curb in his patrol car. "Jesus, you look like shit." He said by way of a hello getting out of his car and wandering over to me.

"I've been running."

"Maybe you should check with a doctor." He grinned.

"It's my fair skin. It flushes easily." I replied annoyed.

Alex's face then turned serious and I asked what was wrong. "Fire in Betty Osorio's apartment." I did some heavy swallowing as I waited for more. "Happened Friday. Well actually Saturday really, two in the morning. Thank God no one was home. Betty was at her sister's."

"Anybody know how it started?"

"Could have started a million ways Ria." Alex replied carefully.

He was holding out on me. I can always tell when he's holding out. "What else Alex?"

"I was looking over Guerin's case file and I just wanted you to know that that night a refrigerator truck… like from a food store was reported to have been in Isabel Harding's alleyway." Sighing he gestured with his hands, displaying Alex-confusion. "It might not mean much, just wanted you to know, it sounded odd is all."

"Thanks Alex."

Not knowing what to do with my day, seeing as though Michael wasn't going to be found unless he tapped on my shoulder and said 'Here I am.' A wandered around my apartment.

It was still messy from the searching Michael had done so I decided to clean up a bit, while doing so I hoped for fresh inspiration. I gave up cleaning 5 minutes into the job and returned to Michael's sketchbook, which I had hidden under my mattress.

I had no reason to hide it, but jeez I'm glad I did. If Michael had found it, it would have been more embarrassing then I could possibly imagine that night being. He would have probably became more pissed off as well.

Flipping the pages I returned again and again to the green eyes. I hoped they were mine, yet strangely enough that little thought scared the hell out of me. Had Michael thought about me as much as I had thought about him? Oh boy. I girl could go mad.

Thinking I shouldn't dwell on the past or Betty's life for that matter I decided to go visit Ed Necedo. Because, quite honestly I liked annoying him. I also thought that if I applied the right amount of pressure the guy would pass something interesting from his slimy, skinning lips.

Barrelling past his secretary I threw the door open. "Got a phone call from Pierce last night."

Necedo jumped out of his chair and continued to pace as I gave him grief. Not one juicy fact would slip past his mouth though. His assurances that it wouldn't happen again did more damage then good and after I had left his office with my skin crawling to the car ahead of me I called Liz for some quality assurance.

"Why didn't you call the police when you got roughed up in the gym?" Liz asked.

I played with some of Michael's interior car buttons and sighed. "Would Max have done that?"

"Sweetie, you're not Cagier." She sighed.

"Cagier?" I grinned and felt Liz blush over the phone.

"He came in here for a free lunch…"

"Oh. Did he get anything else for free?"

"Maria!"

"Sorry, sorry, it's just you know how that Crashdown can be hazardous for human/alien relations."

"_I_ wouldn't know anything about _that_…" Ignoring my huff she went on more seriously. "Why are you only now telling me about Pierce?"

"Just incase I suddenly disappear…"

"That's not funny Maria! I bet Alex knew all about this." She huffed, outdoing my huff by adding guilt to it. "You should get a restraining order."

"What I'm I gonna say? Pierce threatened to send me a present?"

Waking the next morning I felt good. Liz had reassured me, I had a new answering machine, hadn't been humiliated by Michael, hadn't located him either… but hell I was starting this day with a more positive outlook!

I threw my curtains open to glory in the day that would be and froze at the sight of Tess tied to my fire escape.

She was naked and blood-smeared.

A sheet had been draped behind her to hide her from view of the parking lot.

I shouted her name and clawed at the lock, my vision blurred from tears and the hammering in my chest.

Tess didn't move, didn't utter a sound and I couldn't collect myself enough to tell if she was breathing.

I vividly remember cutting her down and calling the ambulance and police, in what order I couldn't tell you.

My instincts were to hide and protect her so before anyone arrived I dragged her inside.

I heard sirens getting closer and the police pounding on my door, but I don't remember letting them in, obviously I did though.

A uniformed cop took me aside, into the kitchen and asked questions I couldn't register. Their were many faces in the room but they all seemed to blur with the blood that was everywhere and only after a while could I make someone out – Kyle.

"What happened?" He asked folding me in his arms.

I told him everything through chattering teeth and a still racing heart. Afterwards people were beginning to focus into identities and I noticed Alex beside me writing everything down.

The phone rang and I automatically reached for it.

Pierce's voice whispered from the handset. "Did you get my present Maria?"

The world snapped into focus. I pushed the record button on the machine and turned the volume up so Kyle, Alex and everyone else in a 5 mile radius could hear.

"What present are you talking about?" I asked.

"I saw you find her. I've been watching you. I wanted you to see what I can do, so you know what to expect. I want you to think about how it's gonna hurt, how you're going to beg."

"You like to hurt women?"

"Women need to be hurt."

I took a winger. "How about Isabel Harding? Did you hurt her?"

"Not as good as I'm going to hurt you."

The connection was broken.

"Jesus Christ," Kyle said. "He's crazy."

"Do you know who that was?" I asked Alex.

"I'm afraid I do." Alex popped the tape out of the machine and wrote my name and date on the label.

Kyle and Alex then exchanged glances and I realised I was covered in Tess' blood.

"How about we get you to take a shower real fast." Alex said guiding me up from the chair.

I looked in at Tess on my way to the bathroom. They were getting ready to move her out.

"How is she?" I asked.

"Alive," Kyle answered. "I'll go with her and make sure she gets the best. You can come by the hospital later…"

Three hours later I was at the hospital. After having an hour shower I had fallen asleep from the anguish of it all. Alex had woken me up to sign a report about my history with Pierce.

Having signed a report (leaving the police to believe the identity of my rescuer at the gym was unknown) Alex had stared at me for a couple of beats. I was inclined to believe he knew the identity of my rescuer but choose to stay silent for now.

"How's Tess?" I asked Kyle upon seeing him slouched on a chair giving the passing doctors hell. "Any news?"

"She's in surgery, they say because she's a… an alien it's more complicated. They don't really know what should be left to heal by itself and what… it shouldn't bloody matter though!" He snapped suddenly angry. "She's hurt, and she needs help to heal!"

It was four before we were allowed to see Tess. Kyle had calmed down slightly, but upon seeing her unconscious and in ICU I believe he had quietly lost it again.

Kyle Valenti was humane and good. If others weren't humane and good I could tell Kyle had trouble dealing with them, because he couldn't comprehend the choice of evilness.

I left the hospital with a sunken heart and decided to ring Alex to see if they had picked up Pierce yet. 

They hadn't. "We've been through this with him before."

"Yes, but you've never had a tape."

"True. Hopefully the tape might make some difference."

Next I rang Liz. "I heard from Alex," She said. "Sorry I couldn't get to the hospital…"

"Tess is doing okay." I said, my voice cracking.

"Alex said you were cool. He said you switched on the recorder when Pierce came on the line."

"You should have seen me five minutes before."

There were some background noises and Max came on the line. "I don't suppose you'd consider taking a vacation?"

"It's crossed my mind."

After declining Liz's offer for a bed at her place I drove home. 'Pierce was _not_ going to ruin my life!' I chanted all the way home.

I really dreaded facing the blood at my apartment. But I felt this urge to be there.

Taking a tentative step into my foyer I realised someone was in my apartment. Someone was making cozy cooking sounds. I could hear food sizzling in a frying pan.

Michael Guerin sauntered out of the kitchen. "Just me. We need to talk."

"Jesus! You are so fucking arrogant!" He moved behind me and locked the door. "What are you doing in my apartment?"

"I'm cooking dinner." He went back to his sauteing. "Rumour has it you've had a tough day."

My mind was spinning – Michael 'The Alien Fugitive' Guerin was in my apartment… and he had his back to me…

"You don't want to shoot an unarmed man." He said, reading my thoughts.

All right so I wouldn't shoot him. I'd zap him though; his neurotransmitters wouldn't know what hit them.

I found myself rationalising a decision to hold off on the butt zapping as he added sliced mushrooms, sending heavenly food smells my way. Consequently my killer instincts were weakened by the amount of saliva pooling in my mouth.

I needed to hear him out I told myself, forget that, my motives weren't nearly so worthy. Truth is I'm more frightened of Pierce then Michael Guerin, and in a bizarre way I felt safe with Michael in my apartment.

One crisis at a time I'd deal with. Have dinner. Zap him for dessert.

Michael turned and looked at me. "You want to talk about it?"

"Pierce almost killed Tess, hung her on my fire escape."

"Pierce is a fungus that feeds on fear. Loves to punish… got a reputation for it. With women he likes to see them squirm in fear…"

"Yeah, I know. He's very big on mutilation and begging," I replied uninhibited. "In fact, you could say he's obsessed with it."

Michael turned the heat down. "I'm trying to scare you, but I don't think it's working."

"I'm all scared out, try again tomorrow." I looked around at my _clean_ apartment. "Did you clean?" He looked embarrassed, almost annoyed, like he didn't like the idea of _helping_ me. "Thank you." I said wanting him to squirm more.

"Was it as bad as the blood indicated?"

"Yeah." I replied softly. Remembering Tess' battered face. My throat began to burn and I looked down at the floor.

"I have wine, why don't you trade in that gun for a couple of glasses?"

I eyed him. "Why are you being so nice?"

"I need you."

"Oh boy."

"Not that way."

"I wasn't thinking _that way_. All I said was 'oh boy'."

I eyed the steak then him again. "I put it on when you pulled into the lot." He poured the wine and handed me a glass. "You're living rather Spartan." He observed.

"Lost my job, sold off my furniture to keep going."

"So you're after me for the money. It's nothing personal?"

"In the beginning it wasn't."

"Why is it personal now?"

"Well let's see," I sighed with as much sarcasm as possible. "Chaining me to a shower rod. Making me get into a Dumpster to get my keys-"

"Wait a minute, they weren't _your_ keys, and you _stole_ my car!"

"I had a plan."

"Snag me when I came to collect my car?"

Smug Bastard. "Something like that."

The grin spread on his face. "I hear the button factory has openings."

"You sound like my mother."

Michael started moving around my kitchen like he'd lived here all his life. It should have seemed invasive and pushy, but it was actually very comfortable. 

He set plates, pulled a freshly made salad from the refrigerator, flipped a rib steak onto each plate, covered them with a mushroom, peppers and onion sauce, and then added a foil-wrapped baked potato. Noticing me watching him with a mouth agape his current grin widened for maximum effect.

The phone rang and we locked eyes. His grin disappearing.

Truth be known I didn't want to be alone and I wasn't all that miserable that spaceboy here was the company.

His mouth softened and he picked up the phone and handed it to me.

Oh God! What if it was Pierce? Liz? Or even worse my mother! All I had to do was act normal and pretend Michael, the fugitive alien, wasn't in my kitchen…

"Hey." I answered cool as ice.

"Babe." Max replied, I could hear him grinning.

"What's up?" I asked all cheerful-like watching Michael eat his steak far too calmly in my books.

"He's there now isn't he?" Max said after a beat. 

Damn him! No point lying. "Yeah."

"You naked?"

"No."

"Still early." I heard the disconnect and I narrowed my eyes at the phone before hanging up. Damn smug alien guys! 

Ignoring Michael's inquiring eyes I dug into my steak. We sat eating at the table like an old married couple. Sitting across from each other, absorbed in the meal.

After I cleaned my plate I pushed back in my chair and eyed the alien at my table. "What do you need from me?"

"Cooperation, in return I'll see that you collect your bounty money."

"You've got my attention."

"Isabel Harding was an informant. One night I'm at home drawing," He shook his head and was about to glare at me, but decided against it, carry on in a hurried manner. "I got a call from her asking for help. She said she had been raped and beaten." My stomach rolled – Pierce. "Isabel said she needed money and a safe place to stay, I said I'd be right over and she said that in return she was going to give me something big. 

"When I got to her apartment Kathleen Topolsky answered the door, and Isabel is no where in sight. A guy, better known as the missing witness comes out of the bedroom and recognises me from who-knows-where and panics. 'This guy's a fucking alien,' he yells at Topolsky. 'I can't believe you opened the door to a goddamn alien!'

"Topolsky draws a huge government-issue-alien-killer and I return fire. Next thing I know, I'm staring at the ceiling. The guy is gone and so is Topolsky's gun."

"Where'd the bullet go? Seeing as though she fired."

"The only explanation I can come up with is that the thing misfired."

"And now you want me to find Isabel, so she can back up your story…"

"No." We locked eyes and I understood.

"You don't think Isabel's going to be backing up anyone's story…"I didn't know Isabel, but I prayed we were wrong.

"My guess is she was beaten and raped by Pierce and Topolsky and her pal were sent to finish the job. Topolsky did Pierce's dirty work, sometimes women last seen in his company are known to disappear to keep things quiet. The body vanishes, so no body, no crime. I think Isabel was dead in the bedroom when I arrived. That's why Topolsky freaked."

I didn't want to talk about Isabel anymore; it was going to make me cry, because in my heart I knew Michael was right. "I want to hear the part about getting me the $10,000."

"You help me prove I blasted Topolsky in self-defence and I'll let you bring me in."

"Can't wait to hear how I'm gonna do this…"

"You're the one person no one would suspect of helping me, I need to watch the link to all this so I can find the missing witness and lately I've been spending more hours hiding than observing."

"Who's the link?" As if I didn't know.

"Pierce." God I hate being right!

"Why would I want to help you?"

"Because I'm innocent." _Innocent_ - interesting choice of words… but in this Topolsky-case it was true. Damn him! "I'll up the ante for you." I mentally grinned; hoping it involved the Crashdown and me being naked. "While you're helping me find my witness, I'll be protecting you from Pierce." Hey, that'll do.

"And how is that going to work?"

"I'm going to guard your body Sweet Cakes."

Jeez, naked me just got incredibly scared. "You're not sleeping in my apartment."

"I'll sleep in the van. Tomorrow I'll wire you up for sound."

"Listen, I don't even know where to begin looking," I said. "What could I do that you haven't already done? The witness might be in Australia already."

"The guy's not in Australia. He's out killing everyone who can place him at the scene. He's killed two people from Isabel's apartment," Milton Ross and Hal. "and failed in his attempt to murder a third." Betty. "I'm also on the list."

The light bulb went on. "You're going to use me as bait. You're going to dangle me in front of Pierce and expect me to extract information from him while he's coaching me on his torture techniques. Jesus Guerin, I know you're pissed because I scored you with the Jetta, but don't you think this is carrying revenge a little far?"

"It's not revenge. The truth is… I like you." His mouth softened into a seductive smile. "If circumstances were different, I might even try to right some past wrongs."

"Oh boy."

"I can see when this is all over, we're going to have to do something about that streak of cynicism you've acquired." His mouth softened some more and he came close, obviously between a rock and a hard place while he still doubted my participation. "You're being stalked by a very nasty man. If we can find my witness, we can link him to Pierce and put them both away for the rest of their unnatural lives."

He had a point, I knew it, he knew it, and his doubt left the building.

"I'll put a bug in your foyer and bedroom," Michael said. "And I'll be able to hear throughout your apartment, with the exception of the bathroom. If you close the bathroom door – I won't be able to hear you. When you go out we'll hide a wire or transmitter under your shirt and I'll follow at a distance."

The thought of Michael hiding anything under my shirt made my uterus drop a couple inches. Obviously it hit some cord in him as well because he backed off a bit. "And you'll let me collect the 10 grand?"

"Absolutely."

"You said Isabel was an informant. What sort of stuff was she informing about?"

"She sold whatever scraps came her way. Mostly low-level alien/human relations stuff. I don't know what she had for me when she called. I never got it."

"Alien/human relations stuff?" I backtracked confused.

"There's been a few rumours that some aliens are remembering why they came here and aren't talking to the government to _help_ with things…"Oh… the friction.

"You think Isabel had information about why you guys are refugees? What happened to make you start arriving in 47 and stuff?"

Michael stared at me for a few beats. "No." He replied finally. "I think she had something to tell me about Pierce."

****

Tbc… 


	6. (6/7)

PART 6 ****

PART 6

My phone rang early and my Max-gifted machine got it. "Rise and shine badarse." Michael said. "I'll be at your front door in ten minutes. Start the coffee brewing."

I started the coffee and got dressed. Brushing my teeth I heard a knock. Michael was 7 minutes early.

Michael headed for the coffee as I finished brushing my teeth. I then called the hospital for a progress report on Tess.

Kyle was still there and told me she had been moved out of ICU and I breathed a sigh of relief and disconnected.

I felt responsible for Tess. It was because I had spoken to her that Pierce had done it and I was about to choke up again when Michael said. "You need to make sure she presses charges." I nodded, but doubted she would. "Pierce was picked up last night and he's out already."

I gulped down that bit of lovely news about our legal system and watched Michael continually bend over as he installed bugs throughout my apartment, occasionally having to pick up his coffee mug from the floor. The site relaxed me and also made my toes tingle. He had such a great arse.

"If Pierce breaks in go with your instincts. If you can pull information without endangering yourself go for it."

"You think it'll come to that?"

Michael stared at me for a beat then replied. "I hope not. Try and get him to talk on the phone, remembering to record."

"Maybe Pierce will be on good behaviour now that he's been charged with assault."

"Pierce doesn't know good from bad babe." He replied finishing up bugging my home. Michael then took a roll of tape and a small plastic case from his bag and walked over to me. "This is a body transmitter, fifteen hours of useable operating time, costing $1200, so don't lose it or wear it in the shower."

We both thought about him putting it on me for a minute. Taking the transmitter and tape, thinking it would be better if I didn't burst into flames this morning. Well I had work to do today. "What's the plan for today?"

After a beat Michael answered. "Now that you don't have to worry about driving _me_ crazy, you can concentrate on driving Pierce crazy. Go to Stark Street, push him into making another move,"

"Gosh this gets better and better. How am I supposed to 'push him'?"

"Look sexy, ask annoying questions, in general get on everyone's nerves. All those things come naturally to you, should be easy enough…"

Ain't he funny? Mental eye roll. "You know Ed Necedo?"

"Everybody knows Ed Necedo."

"Opinion of him?"

"Mixed." I stared at him and gave him a look that said 'that's it?' "Necedo moves in so many different circles that sometimes he's in my good books and at other times I'm certain he's going to hell."

That was interesting. "What circles?"

"Sport circles mostly. Baseball, boxing etc… promotion and managing."

"Sounds fine…"

"Pierce is his nicest client."

"Oh." Gulp. "You ever spoken to him?"

"Pierce?"

"No, Necedo."

"Never."

"Pierce?"

"Yes." He replied slowly getting more coffee.

"When?"

"Boxing match. I was researching a case and he was there."

Grimace. "Pierce likes boxing?"

"He was going to be one." Michael replied. "He's got the right mentality."

What a recommendation for the boxing world. "You like boxing?"

He stared at me for a heartbeat. "It's like sex," I made a strangled sound in the back of my throat. "…Puts you in touch with the beast." I snorted and he grinned. "You're just grumpy because you can't remember the last time you saw the beast."

"I see the beast plenty."

"Honey, you don't see the beast at all. I've been asking around."

I gave him the stiff middle finger. "Beast this."

Michael's grin widened. "You're damn cute when you act stupid. Anytime you want to unleash the beast, you let me know."

That did it! I'm gonna zap him!

After promising Michael I'd go to Stark Street at noon I thought I'd visit Tess at the hospital in the morning.

Kyle was still there.

"How is she?" I asked sitting down next to him.

"Docs say she'll be alright." Kyle gave me a little smile.

"I didn't doubt that." I said touching his hand. 

Leaving the hospital I decided to go home and get 'dressed' for _work_. By the end I made one hell of a good-looking slut.

I did the mini and barely there top with some strappy sandals and after I was done I made _myself_ do a double take.

I'd discovered that the transmitter showed under my top so I thought 'take this Michael Guerin!' and hid it in my underpants.

Parking a block from the gym I started down the street, the van I could see was directly across from the gym.

I moved on down the street. Has anyone seen Isabel Harding? I asked. Is it true she was seen with Daniel Pierce the night Kathleen Topolsky was blasted? No one had seen her, make that, and no one had seen or knew anything.

I paraded around for another hour and capped the effort with a trip across the street to lay some grief at Ed Necedo's Feet.

He didn't seem surprised. Probably he'd been watching me all day. "You know about Tess?" I asked.

Necedo nodded. "He swears it wasn't him."

"And you believe him?" Unbelievable! "I've got him on tape!"

"I can't see him making that phone call. I know he's not Einstein, but he's not dumb."

"I don't see him as dumb, I see him as sick!"

Necedo looked like the kind of person who has problems with no solutions to them. "Look, do me a favour and stay away from Stark Street. The cops are going to investigate what happened to Tess. I'm afraid if Daniel sees you, he'll get stirred."

I told him I had a job to do and couldn't stay away from Stark Street.

I let myself out after that and sat on the curb. "Damn, that was fucking depressing." I said into my crotch. I couldn't imagine what Michael was thinking of my little conversation with the naïve man.

Michael knocked on my door at ten-thirty that night. He had a six-pack and a pizza. He was wearing jeans and a navy T-shirt. "Another day in that van and I might be glad to go to gaol." He said.

"Is that a Crashdown pizza?" I asked.

"Is there any other kind?"

"How'd you get it?"

"Crashdown delivers to felons." He grinned. 

I'd have to have a chat to Liz about her managing skills sometime soon. "Did you hear the conversation with Ed Necedo?"

"Yeah. I heard it. What the hell kind of outfit were you supposed to be wearing?"

"It was my slut outfit."

"Christ, you had guys running their cars up on the curb. And where did you hide the mike? It wasn't under _that_ top…"

"In my underpants."

"Dang," Michael said. "When I get it back I'm gonna have it bronzed."

After telling Michael I had rang Kyle before he got here and he said Tess doesn't want to testify, he merely said "Big surprise." And ate another slice of pizza.

He knew it and I knew it. Hookers were destroyed in 'fair' trials. Their credibility was always in question, and alien hookers had less of a chance.

"What do you make of Necedo? You think he could testify against Pierce?"

"Depends how much he knows. Whitman paid him a visit after you left, and he got less than you did."

"You have Necedo's office bugged?"

"No. Talk at the Crashdown." There was one piece of pizza left and we both eyeballed it. "It'll go to your hips." Michael said. He was right, but I took it anyway.

I kicked him out a little after one and in the morning there were no messages on my machine. I was about to start coffee when the car alarm went off in the lot below. I grabbed my keys and took the stairs.

The driver's door was open and I deactivated and reset the alarm. Returning to my apartment Michael was in my kitchen trying to remain cool.

"I didn't want anyone to steal your car." I grinned.

"It wasn't 'anyone' you were worried about. It was _me_." I could tell the effort to stay calm was jacking his blood pressure into the red zone. "You had a goddamn alarm installed in my goddamn car so I couldn't snatch it!"

"It worked too." This was sweet. "What were you doing in our car?"

"It's not _our_ car. It's _my_ car."

"It's just a car alarm… you should be thanking me," I was soooo pushing this. "I had it installed with my own money."

"Well shit, what was I thinking of?"

We locked eyes and there was a knock on the door making us both jump.

Michael beat me to the peephole. He then stepped back several paces and pulled me with him. "It's Jim Valenti."

There was another knock and I said. "He can't have you. You're mine and I'm not sharing."

Michael grimaced. "I'll be under the bed if you need me."

I went to the door and looked through the peephole. Jim Valenti. The horses arse according to Kyle. The guy looked like he was in his late forties. Thinner then I had expected. I opened the door.

"Jim Valenti," he said. "You must be Maria DeLuca."

"Aren't you suppose to me in hospital?"

"Not anymore, they tell me I'm good as new."

He didn't look 'good as new', but I suppose he looked okay. "What can I do for you?" I asked knowing full well that he wanted Michael's paperwork.

"My daft son Kyle said he gave _you_ my paperwork." 

Bastard. That was so condescendingly said! "Yeah I'll get it."

I handed him the forms I had found in my bag and Valenti said. "If you spot Guerin down the street, call me."

Sure dickhead.

I went to close the door after him but he lingered. "I know this'll sound weird, but I could've sworn I saw Guerin's car in your lot."

Time to show off to this know-it-all. "Thought I could flush him out with it."

Valenti was mildly impressed. Not enough though to smile. "Bye."

I closed the door, slid the bolt and turned around. Michael was standing in the bedroom doorway.

"Do you think he knew you were here?"

"No. If he knew, he'd have his gun aimed at my forehead by now."

Valenti sure had a nice reputation. "So we shouldn't underestimate him."

"He's not nearly as nice as he looks." I didn't think he was so 'nice' looking… "He was a cop. Got kicked off the force for demanding favours from prostitutes of both genders."

Poor Kyle, how embarrassing. I went to the window to get another look at him in this new light and saw Valenti looking from Michael's jeep to his van.

I stepped away from the window and told Michael he should probably return to his position under my bed.

Two minutes later there was a knock on my door. 

"Do you know the owner of the van in your lot?"

"No… but it's been here for a while."

I closed the door and went to my bedroom. Sitting on my bed Michael slid out from under it. "Valenti's gonna be a real pain in the arse. He's gonna check on the van plates and put it together."

"What's this gonna to do for you?" I asked.

"It's gonna knock me out of Roswell until I get a different vehicle."

We went into the kitchen and Michael took a carton of orange juice from the fridge. "Put this on my tab. I've gotta get out of here." He walked to the door and stopped and turned halfway there and looked directly at me. "Stay locked up in the apartment here."

I nodded, but I was thinking 'Yeah, sure…' as sarcastically as possible.

"Promise me you won't go out."

"I promise." Hah! Yeah right.

Half an hour later I was parked across from the gym on Stark Street. I had no intension of waiting for Pierce to coach me on his sick ways. However, I wasn't an open invite either, so I stayed in the jeep… with my doors locked.

Several times I had looked at Ed Necedo's office to see his face in the window, and less than an hour later Necedo Trotted across the street and knocked on the car window.

I had decided I liked pissing Necedo off, so I decided I should probably continue it. "I need to continue surveillance on Guerin Ed. I'm sure you'll understand."

Necedo's brow wrinkled and he looked pained. "I'd watch his relatives and his friends. What's this thing you have with Stark Street and Isabel Harding?"

"I think Pierce abused Isabel just like he hurt Tess. Then I think he panicked and sent Topolsky and a guy over to Isabel's to make sure she didn't say anything. And then I think Guerin walked in on it and blasted Topolsky in self-defence just like he said. And somehow Isabel, Topolsky's gun and the guy with Topolsky managed to disappear. I think Guerin's trying to find them and I figure here's the logical place to look."

"How'd you come up with that crazy idea?"

"Guerin's arrest statement." Phew.

Necedo looked disgusted. "What did you expect Guerin to say? That he blasted Kathleen for the hell of it? Daniel's an easy target, has a reputation for being a little aggressive," A little? Esquease moi? "And Kathleen worked for him, so Guerin took it from there."

"How about the guy, the missing witness, did he work for Pierce?"

"I don't know anything about the missing witness."

"People tell me he has a nose that looked like it had been smashed with a frying pan."

Necedo stared at me for a beat then glanced at his watch. "I'm late for a lunch date, if you get hungry there's a little shop down the alleyway next to the gym."

I said thanks but didn't want to chance it with Pierce working out in the gym so I drove to get some food 3 miles away.

When I got back I was twice as bored as before so I called Liz. "How is she?" I asked after she had said she had dropped by the hospital.

"She appreciated the flowers from you." Flowers? Kyle. I let it slide. "Dad want's you to drop by the Crashdown tomorrow." Damn those over-protective surrogate dads.

"Sure, what time?"

"Sometime around noon."

"Yeah sure." Jeff Parker wasn't so bad, infact, it would probably make me feel better, come to think of it I should probably call mum aswell.

After I disconnected I finally got out of the car to de-numb my arse. 

Pierce was standing next to the jeep.

"Been waiting all day for you to get out of your car." He said with a psychotic grin.

Jesus. "I-I want to k-know about Isabel." My throat was trembling. "I want to know if you sneaked u-up on her."

"Isabel and me had a date." Holy crap. "Isabel asked for what she got." Double holy crap!

"Where is she now?"

Pierce shrugged. "Don't know."

"What about the m-missing w-witness, he w-work for you?"

"Why don't we go upstairs and talk about this…"

"I don't think so."

"See there you go again, refusing me, I don't like that."

"Tell me about Topolsky's missing f-friend… the guy with the smashed nose."

"Be more interesting to make you bleed before I fuck you I think."

I'm outta here. "You don't s-scare me."

"You lie." Shit yeah I lie!

Pierce wrapped his hand around my upper arm and I could mentally visualise my bones crashing. I kicked him hard in the shin and never saw his hand move. The crack ringing in my ears as my head snapped back. I tasted blood and tears came to my eyes from the intensity of the hit. Suddenly I was blasted back. 

Michael! No, not Michael… Necedo. Jesus Ed Necedo was an alien.

Pierce howled in pain and rage and a man I had never seen before stooped to calm and help him up.

Necedo was all apologises as he helped me to my feet. "Moss, get him to the gym." He steadily said to the man, hiding the powerful fury bubbling inside of him. "I'm really sorry Maria," he said to me then. "I don't know what's the matter with him." Moss carted Pierce away. "I don't know what to do with him."

I have a couple ideas! "Lock him up!"

"I could heal you… you what to go into the gym and I'll heal you?"

"The only place I'm going is to the police station!"

"Think about it for a day," Necedo pleaded. "At least wait until you're not so upset." His concern really touched my heart, not!

"Hadda akthident," I said to Alex. "My lip ith thwollen."

"Maybe you should see a doctor…"

I ripped the paper of the Popsicle I found in his fridge and put it on my lip. "Ahhh," I sighed. "thas bedda."

"What happened?"

"I haf an asthault charge againth Pierth," I said. "He hit me in the mouff."

"Where'd this happen?"

"Thark Threet."

I took a shower at Alex's and we had ice cream for dinner. When I got back to my apartment Michael wasn't there and I had a gulping fit thinking about Jim Valenti.

Looking at Michael's sketchbook to calm me from thoughts of an in-trouble-Michael I sat on my bed. The drawings of the floating green eyes brought the peace I needed and I slept.

My phone rand at six-thirty. It was Michael. "I'm having the van painted and the antennae removed. In the meantime I've got a Nissan, I'm parked on Maple, just behind your parking lot."

Mental Grin. "So you could guard my body?"

"Mostly I just didn't want to miss hearing you getting undressed." Mental Hitting Michael over the head as soon as my toes de-curled.

"I suppose you need to get out of Roswell before Valenti returns."

"I suppose I do." Didn't seem too happy. "I'll be back tonight with the van."

I went back to bed and was jolted awake by the car alarm blaring away. I rushed to the window and threw the curtains open in time to see Jim Valenti smash the alarm to smithereens.

"Valenti!" I bellowed from my open window. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I need a car."

"Christ Valenti, you can't just come and take someone's car!"

"What are you gonna do DeLuca? Call the police?"

"God will get you for this!"

"Fuck God." Valenti said sliding behind the wheel and fiddling with the wires.

I bolted out the door with my stun gun wearing my Mickey Mouse nightshirt and a pair of Jockey string bikinis. I'd be damned if Valenti was gonna have the car I had stolen first!

I was through the back door with my foot on the pavement when I saw Valenti start the car.

I split second later the car exploded with a bang of fire.

"I'm getting a bad feeling about this." Alex said in my apartment. 

He had a bad feeling? Someone _wanted_ me dead! And Kyle's dad _is_ dead! "You know Jim Valenti?" Alex nodded. "He was in the jeep."

"No shit. Are you sure?"

"I was talking to him when it blew."

"I guess that explains your missing eyebrows."

A cop came over to Alex with a twisted licence plate. "Whitman I found this over my the Dumpster. You want me to run an ID?"

I took the plate. "Don't bother. The car belongs to Michael Guerin."

"Oh boy," Alex said. "I can't wait to hear this one."

Skipping over some crucial information I filled Alex in on the Cherokee, finishing by saying how Valenti made the mistake of saying 'Fuck God'.

"You think God got pissed and fried Valenti?"

"It's possible."

I went to my mother's for dinner and she said, "What happened to your eyebrows?" as way of a hello. Alex had said I should call Kyle and I did from mum's place.

I told Kyle the whole thing, and when I was done there was silence. He then handed the phone to someone at his house.

"I'll take good care of him, repay the kindness." Tess.

I smiled. Kyle and Tess were both gonna be fine.

Michael knocked on my door at 6:30pm. He took in my missing eyebrows and my bruised face and arm. His expression was grim. "You want to tell me about it?"

"Pierce and I had a tussle but I won."

"The singed eyebrows?"

Mmmm. "Well that's a little more complicated."

His face darkened. "What happened?"

"Your car blew up." No reaction, shit. "You also don't have to worry about Jim Valenti."

I filled him in and we arrived at the same conclusion, it wasn't Pierce and I should have stayed at home.

"You ever get death threats?" He asked. "How about ex-boyfriends? You run over anyone recently?"

"I don't run over exes, because at least they've given my a chance at becoming an ex."

Michael stared at me. "That's a rotten attitude."

"How 'bout just rotten. I should just zap you!"

"You wouldn't have a chance."

I whipped the stun gun out, but before I could touch him with it he knocked it from my hand.

"Doesn't count," I said. "You were ready for it."

"I'm always expecting it from you, you're the most impossible person I know."

"Not even in your dreams could you imagine how impossible I am."

We locked eyes and Michael grinned. "I doubt that. In my dreams you're in all sorts if impossible positions." 

Jesus I was in trouble. The tension in the apartment was dropping my uterus and making my nibbles as hard as rocks. I wanted him bad.

My eyes scanned his body and his breathing sped up, grew deeper.

We mutually backed off and Michael gulped once before turning his attention to my TV. Settling himself in front of it for the first time I noticed how tired he looked. Sitting with his back against the wall, one leg bent at the knee his breathing grew deep and even.

"I could zap you now." I whispered.

A smile played at the corners of his mouth but he didn't open his eyes. "It's not your style, Cupcake."

I don't know what possessed me but I couldn't stop myself. I wandered over to him and gently grabbed his hand. His eyes flew open and I tugged him to my bedroom. Motioning for him to lay down I scooted in behind him.

In the morning I found I was wrapped up in an alien's arms. I turned around and looking into Michael's face I smiled. I'd never seen him like this. Even in sleep he still radiated contained energy. I found myself drawn to it and I couldn't stop myself from cuddling into him.

Michael stirred but only held me tighter in response. His eyes then flickered open and he bashfully let go of me but didn't move to get up out of bed.

I self-consciously palmed my forehead and stilled when I noticed my eyebrows were back and my bruises and cut lip were gone. Michael had healed me.

Michael was fully awake now and I edged closer to him, making his nervous glances still. "You um s-should probably put in some time on Stark Street."

"I've gotta go visit Jeff Parker." I whispered.

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Just in case."

"Just in case of what?"

I made an exasperated gesture and got up out of bed. "Give me a break, Guerin. In case something happens to me!"

Michael, who had been watching from the bed, resting on his elbows, levered up and got out of bed. Coming over to me he grasped my chin gently. "You're gonna be okay," He said softly. "I understand that you're scared, but we're the good guys and the good guys always win."

Damn him! Now all I wanted to do was jump back into bed, with him. 

Tbc… 


	7. (7/7)

Dedicated to all those who have supported me in one way or another – mainly just not given up on me. *g*

****

PART 7

I was about to leave when suddenly Michael pulled me back. His hands slid under my shirt and my breath caught.

"The wire." He said, attaching a recorder to my skin, his fingertips were warm against my skin, skimming the swell of my breast not covered by my bra.

*~*~*

Michael was just so irresistible… his sexy ways completely out weighed the headache he was capable of giving and I found myself watching his butt as we made our way to the car park.

We stopped in front of my 'pussy' painted nova and had our own thoughts. Liz must have dropped it off, either she or Max. My bet was on Max; he had the type of resources I didn't even want to think about. I'd go over to Liz's and we would talk, she'd calm me down about Pierce, the missing witness, Jim Valenti and… oh god.

Looking at my reinstated nova I suddenly became uneasy.

Michael began watching me and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

"Even if the bomber knew which car you were gonna drive they'd have to be stupid to try the same thing twice."

I grimaced and Michael took the keys from my clenched fist with a hard yank.

"No way. This is my problem. I'll start it up."

"If one of us is gonna blow it might as well be me." He said. "I'm used to intense explosions." He added grinning.

"Wait till I move back." I grinned, backing away from the car.

Michael got into the car and I held my breath. He turned the key and when the ignition caught he slumped against the wheel.

I wandered on back and beamed at him. "Is my seat wet?"

"Very funny." Michael got out of the car and his eyes put me on a slow heat. "I'll be on Stark Street if you need me."

I wasn't completely sure his definition of 'needing' was exactly like mine so a fought against the urge to go after his leg like a dog in heat.

*~*~*

When I arrived at the Crashdown I saw Max there as well, Liz was showing him a new dress. "What do you think?" she asked him.

Max's eyes darkened and his mouth tightened into a small smile.

Gulp. "Hi." I said all cheery-like because I admit I was slightly jealous and not too unhappy that I had interrupted.

Max smiled secretively.

"What?" I accidentally snapped showing my true mood.

"Cute." He replied surveying the outfit I had put on to drive Michael crazy this morning.

I narrowed my eyes and straighten my skirt. "Well aren't we the fashion critic." I scoffed.

Max grinned down at me and Liz glanced over at me. "You okay?"

"Never better." This morning I wanted Michael so bad it was painful driving away from him and now I'm jealous of my best friend. 

There was just something about Max – stable, dependable… he was the extreme opposite of Michael – maybe that's why I found this different kinda safe vibe coming from him. Hey, go figure, usually girls don't have opposing tastes, but I've not only got that characteristic but I also have a taste for extremes!

"Stay outta trouble babe." Max said softly to me, he nodded at Liz and left. Mr Sociable.

"What's up?" Liz asked when Max's butt was out of sight.

"Everything." Then I let everything off my chest. Apart from the helping Michael bit.

Liz was silent until I got to the part about 'wanting to find the missing witness so I could *find* Michael Guerin'.

"People with faces squashed like a frying pan give me the creeps."

I grinned – Liz, Miss Agreeable Friend. "How many do you know?"

"Only one." She blushed. "But he gives me the creeps… he's really hostile and let's just say when he drops off the stock today I'm hoping you'll stick around, I had hoped Max would stay but…"

"I'll do?"

"Nicely." She grinned.

"When is he coming?"

Liz looked at her watch. "Should be out back now actually."

We wandered out the back and my mouth dropped open when I realised this guy *really* did have a squashed-with-a-frying-pan-face.

"Khivar… just stock them there." Liz said pointing to a clear area next to his parked refrigerator truck.

Omigod. As soon as he looked up we both stood stunned and his eyes wandered over me with deadly assessment. This was the guy, the missing witness – Khivar, the Killer of Milton Ross, Hal Carver and Jim Valenti.

He nodded at Liz and speedily unpacked the goods from the front seat of the truck.

"I thought we were getting a bigger load…" Liz questioned looking at the small boxes, totally oblivious to my shaking limbs.

"No." He said coldly. "That's it for now."

He knew who I was, he knew I recognised him, he was leaving… what was I going to do? Ring Michael and lose him or follow him and then ring Michael? Damn it! It was going to have to be the latter.

*~*~*

Khivar was heading out to the desert. I was probably twenty cars behind him in Liz's new Honda Civic.

He had just turned onto South 285 and I had sped my pace – scared that I'd lose him.

I saw him drive off the road suddenly and drive down into the 285 Basin two miles from the road.

So here I was, parked behind a bolder, about fifty metres away on top of the Basins ridge.

Khivar seemed to be staying put in the truck so keeping my eye on it I searched blindly for Liz's mobile phone that I had tossed in my bag as I had hurriedly made a lame excuse to Liz for needing to go.

Finding the phone I called Michael.

"Found the witness – his name is Khivar." I said when he answered.

"Where are you?"

"On the ridge above the basin off route 285."

"I'll be right there."

I disconnected and watched as a low dust storm approached. Jeez, that was fast Guerin!

It wasn't Michael though. It was a sleek black BMW and it was heading straight for Khivar's truck.

The BMW parked right next to the truck and I had a feeling that no one was getting out because the BMW parked in such a way that allowed the driver to talk to Khivar through the driver's side window.

So I waited, watching the two vehicles. I was so engrossed that when a hand touched my shoulder a yelped. "Guerin!"

"Shhhh… when did Pierce show up?"

"Th..That's Pierce's car?" Gulp.

Michael nodded.

"About 5 minutes ago."

"And they've stayed in the cars?"

"Yes, haven't keep my eyes off them." An engine caught and I added. "Well not until you distracted me."

"I do that to women." Michael grinned now completely focussed on the two cars. Pierce's BMW sped away and Michael radiated 'thinking' vibes.

"What now?" I asked.

"We go visit Khivar." Double Gulp.

We stood and I felt like telling Michael of the weird scary vibes I had gotten from this fella… but instead I nobly let Michael go first.

"So what did you do all day?" I asked as we approached the car from behind.

"I drew." I wasn't expecting that.

"What, what did you draw?"

Michael stopped and turned around, looking directly into my eyes. "You ask a lot of questions." I beamed and he started walking towards the truck again. "I drew eyes."

"Mine?" It just popped out, okay! I wasn't really thinking he'd ha-

"I've already drawn yours." He answered softly.

"Oh." I replied just as soft, of course… That's Michael, always wanting to do things only once. That really summed up this guy – Done it, seen it, have the T-Shirt!

"I did draw them again today though," he admitted softly. "I wanted to, so I did."

It was like he was proud that I had no control over his drawing subject. "Just today?" Maybe I was feeling so gutsy because *I* was the one that had found Khivar.

"No." He replied hurriedly arriving at the truck.

I wanted to tell him about the sketchbook, but the sight of Khivar's dead body slumped over the steering wheel stopped me.

"Shit," I said. "Pierce has killed him."

"Christ." Michael answered, we both knew we really needed a alive witness. 

A loud thump came from the back of the truck and we both jumped.

There was something-alive back there.

How fickle is that, I wanted something alive and now I'd prefer dead.

Deadness means you don't have to make conversation, or in my case wet your pants.

Michael went around to the back and slowly slid the doors open.

A dead woman lay on the floor of the truck and a bluish, quite alive but very sleepy, woman sat there shivering above her.

"Isabel!" Michael cried pulling the alive bluish one from the truck with emotion but care.

He then sat Isabel on the ground and told me to hug her. "You're always war- it will warm her up." He added placing Khivar in the back of the truck with the other dead body.

"Who's the woman?" I asked gaining a sinking feeling.

"Kathleen Topolsky." Michael answered avoiding the dead woman's eyes as he searched the back.

As I rubbed Isabel's back I grew to wonder how she could have possibly survived and- "What are you looking for?"

"Topolsky's alien gun, it will prove self defence."

"Um Spaceboy, alive girl here – alive witness."

"Doesn't count."

WHAT! "Excuse me?"

"She's an alien, she'll probably even be less trusted and believed than I was."

"I trust her." I whispered suddenly feeling all glowy as a small light radiated off Isabel and soaked through my skin.

"You're different." Michael sighed still searching for the gun in the back of the truck.

I helped Isabel into the front seat of the truck and assessed the situation as I did so.

Walking back to Michael I said. "Michael it *will* be okay."

Michael looked up quickly when I had said his name but shook his head at the rest of my plea.

"No Maria, it won't."

"Trust me." I whispered.

"Ha!" Michael scoffed just before I made my decision and shut the back door locking Michael inside.

Walking quickly to the drivers' side door I levered myself into the seat and headed back to Roswell.

Isabel stirred and fumbled with the refrigeration temperature. "So Michael won't turn into Popsicle." She explained sleepily.

I nodded. "Good thinking." But probably wouldn't really help Michael thinking better of me anytime soon.

I picked up the truck's car phone and dialed Alex, hoping he wouldn't mind my Michael delivery with extra dead bodies.

*~*~*

When we got there I looked at the *alone* Alex and reassessed the situation. "I think Guerin'll be a bit upset, maybe you should call for backup."

Alex's eyes flickered to the truck. "Ria, he's not in the back… is he?" I nodded. "Shit."

Isabel had stumbled out of the front seat and before I could stop her she opened the back and Michael catapulted himself out at me and used some very nasty invented words. No doubt he had been thinking them up on the way over.

We went crashing to the floor and rolled around for what seemed like an eternity before three cops pulled him off me and marched him through the doors.

Standing up shakily I told myself I deserved that. My legs were scraped and Alex pulled me into his arms just before I asked where Isabel was.

"She's been taken to the hospital… I'll take you home then head on over to see how she is and give you an update in the morning."

*~*~*

Flipping through Michael sketchbook in my apartment I dwelt again about Michael. I had mixed feelings. 

I wasn't really sure I had done the right thing. I had reasoned that Michael's name would be cleared, he'd have a fair trial and that Isabel could back him up about everything and in next to no time they would find the gun or not even need it.

Suddenly I shuddered, and instantly knew the reason for it. 

Someone was in my apartment.

He called my name and I felt my hair stand up so much it felt like it was rubbing against the ceiling.

"Close the curtains," he purred, "and turn around nice and slow so I can see you."

I did as I was told. It was Necedo. With a gun pointed at my face.

"You're a real pain in the arse."

"So I've been told."

"You try and take over the earth and a ditzy bleached-blonde woman stands annoyingly in your way."

"I'm naturally blonde."

He was not amused. "Well you're not going to naturally die."

Shit. "What?" I said shakily.

Necedo grinned. "Well, I might as well explain, seeing as though you'll be eliminated before you can tell."

Eliminated? Exsqueeze me? I suddenly noticed his change in manner, surgical, cold…

"I'm one of the bad, evil aliens."

Necedo was an alien… I now realised how he felt, like those nasty alien boys at school… he assumed I was scared of aliens… 

"Aliens aren't 'evil'." I retorted thinking of Isabel's cold body, Max's lonely life and Tess' nervous glances… and the distance Michael had place between us for as long as I could remember.

"Oh human, trust me there are some *very* bad aliens around…"

Omigod. "The ones that remember-"

"And pretend to be like the other unearthly creatures." He smiled smugly.

Shit, it was all coming together.

"Our slaves were such great tools. We fled with them and pretended to be like them – all noble… sickening. They go into comas if traumatised badly enough and if they stay like that for too long the memory is the first to fade you see." He then laughed. "Imagine hating war… my race lived for it… we spread it."

"You used them," I choked, it was so cruel. "There pain… you, you were the ones spreading the rumours to keep them oppressed even in their place of refuge." 

"Genius wasn't it?"

"Your love of war…" My mind was buzzing.

"Keep going human, you're doing surprisingly well."

"You want a alien/human war to begin, even though…" I choked up further at the thought of the nice aliens being forced to defend themselves against the wrong enemy. 

"You're a real danger Maria." He said almost admiringly but suddenly deadly serious. "You've found out the only element of human control that can defeat our plan, compassion… love. Guerin found it out to… alien/human social worker, such sad endeavours… It was only a matter of time before he pieced it all together."

"Isabel pieced it together…"

"No. Daniel ran off at the mouth to the blonde Harding."

"Pierce…" More of the picture was fitting together by the minute.

Necedo shrugged. "Dumb crazy human - he was going to help create a war, what could be more glorious for your pitiful race?" Necedo looked like he was about to choke up - disgusting. 

"He is mad poor Daniel, but it was women like you that made him so." Now I was really disgusted and getting more edgy by the minute. Necedo wasn't the Mad Scientist from Hell; he was the Mad Dictator from Pluto! 

"It was my mistake, I see it now, I needed to keep a low profile so I let the blind clean up after the blind. Daniel is crazy and Khivar stupid… I should have taken control early, but that smart arse Guerin slave-born and female Tess were so goddamn weary!" He was beginning to yell, losing control over his sinister calm side.

"Khivar couldn't even kill you!" Necedo waved the gun at me to remind me of its presence and continued wistfully. "I've lost count of how many times he's tried to kill Guerin… it's funny how even when Kathleen was there she was the only one to lose her life."

I could reach my bag; it was a metre away, if he was suddenly distracted I could reach it.

"Poor Kathleen, she was in love with Daniel…" Man that's gross. "Would even kill for him, but the Harding slave tricked her… dumb humans. Never send a human to do a noble job like killing."

Necedo motioned for me to sit down which took me further then three metres away from my bag. Shit. My heart felt cold and heavy as I sank into the cushion.

"I'm quite impressed with the Harding slave… using a weakness as a protective force… very clever… however I will visit her after I've eliminated you." He then laughed at me and I understood he knew my weakness - others suffering. "The trauma that put her into that coma was extreme. Torture… rape, all great repercussions of war." He grinned crazily. 

His eyes were darting around the room but I saw no light in them… just like Pierce. "She survived Pierce, but she won't survive me… just like you won't."

He was going to kill me. Quickly, please God let him do it quickly. Necedo grinned at my trembling hands and pulled out a mobile phone from his jacket pocket and dialed.

"My human," He said when the connection was made. "I've got a blonde here wanting attention." Something was said at the other end. "Maria DeLuca," Necedo answered. "She's at home waiting for you. And Daniel, make sure no one sees you. Maybe you better come up the fire escape." The conversation was severed and the phone discarded.

"You were the one in Pierce's car. You killed Khivar…"

Necedo seemed shocked that I had pieced more together, and I was wishing my mind would stop doing it, it was too upsetting, sad, I was going to cry any minute. I hadn't even told Michael that I loved him, I always had. We had talked indirectly; both so scared of what the other might say.

Necedo got himself some water and I watched as the *thing* that wanted to start a war with good aliens and humans alike being the causalities gulped down the entire glass. "What happens when Pierce gets here?"

"I turn my back while he does his thing, then I shoot him with your gun over there in your purse and I watch you both bleed and fantasize of others dying just like you."

"I'll tell Pierce you're going to kill him."

"He won't believe you."

"How come?"

"Because when Isabel Harding tried to defend herself by telling Daniel I was upset with him for telling her our species plan she… well wasn't treated well was she?"

He was insane, an insane awful alien. Christ. It was now or never…

My eyebrows raised and I pretended like I was covering up a persons entrance. Necedo took the bait and turned while I jumped out of the couch and BLAST! A pain like never before hit my arse and I was sent forward against the wall.

I was going to die, I felt him come to inspect the damage, he didn't want me dead… that was the worst thing to realise, he wanted me alive… for Pierce.

I turned to face him to show him I was a survivor and that he'd gotten more then he bargained for with Maria DeLuca when a powerful blue flare hit him from behind and he hurtled to the wall.

"I thought I told you to stay outta trouble."

Max humour, or more precisely alien humour.

I gave him a weak smile. "I think I'm gonna hurl."

Max put his hand to the back of my neck and pushed my head down between my legs. "Push against my hand."

The bells stopped clanging and Max pulled me to my feet. 

"When did you came in?"

"When he blasted you."

"I'm gonna die… I've been blasted." I said systematically.

"You're not gonna die."

Max slid an arm around me and pulled me to him. I rested my head on his chest and he nuzzled my hair. Kissing me just above my ear he asked. "Are you feeling better?"

No way. I was as unbetter as a person could get. "Sure, I'm fine."

I could feel him smile. "Liar."

I bright green light shot through the window and a man screamed savagely. Max and I jumped apart, the loud clanging of someone falling ringing in my ears.

We looked out and Pierce was laying motionless at the bottom of the fire escape, Michael was just as still but standing over Pierce.

Michael looked up and our eyes held and I wanted to go to him but Max pulled me into his arms again and I began to shake so badly that if I hadn't had Max's support I would have fallen to the ground.

*~*~* 

The boys in blue swarmed around Alex and I and the noise was muted by the numbness of my mind.

"Guerin broke out."

"Yes."

"He came here, when he pieced it together."

"Yes." Gotta love Alex's 'hinting'. Alex was a good guy. "You came here first as well."

"When Isabel told me everything-"

"Isabel's okay?"

"Yeah… she's gonna be fine. She's a survivor."

"Us women are."

Alex grinned and he looked over to behind my shoulder. I turned and saw Michael standing near Pierce's body, completely focused on it, his expression unreadable.

Again I wanted to go to him, comfort him for coming to protect me, comfort him for… not killing me for the refrigerator or Jetta thing.

*~*~*

Necedo and Pierce were dead. Max hadn't been charged and Michael had been acquitted of Topolsky's murder it was stated in the paper, so I lived in fear of my safety once more now that Michael was released and would probably come seeking revenge soon. 

I had been named the Bombshell Bounty Hunter, which I considered funny, my mother and Liz were as pleased as punch. Michael had wired me so well my whole conversation with Necedo was recorded and from the autopsy on Necedo and Khivar they found away of telling evil aliens from good. 

Michael had been given a grant from the government and the future was looking brighter for alien/human relationships then ever before. Well all but one… Michael was one day going to get me for the locking-him-in-a-freezing-truck-with-two-dead-bodies thing.

It had been two days since I'd been blasted and the pain was down to an annoying but manageable ache in my back. The mental healing would be slower.

Ten thousand dollars had been deposited in my account so it was time to start building my furniture population in the apartment, either that or go to Vegas with some funky new shoes.

I jumped at the sound of someone knocking on my door. Cautiously making my way to the foyer I looked out of the peephole and gasped at the sight of Michael Guerin grinning back.

Michael was freshly shaven and dressed, he stared directly at the peephole and smiled smugly. He knew I was looking, deciding if it was wise to open the door.

Michael waved and I remembered the time when our positions had been reversed in what seemed like ages ago now.

I unlocked the dead bolt but left the chain in place. "Yes?" I said cracking the door open two inches.

"Take the chain off." Michael said. 

Not on your life! "Why?"

This brought a slow, evil smile. "Are you afraid of me?"

"Uh… yes."

"You should be. You locked me in a refrigerator truck with two dead people. I'm going to one day repay you for it."

"But not tonight?"

"No," he said. "Not tonight."

I let him in and he followed me over to the kitchen.

"Looks like you're walking a little slow… how are you feeling?"

"Oh fine… the blast did most of its damage on my wall."

Michael's smile had faded. "How are you really feeling?"

I'm not sure what it is about him, but he never fails to strip down my defences. Even when I'm watchful and on guard Michael can piss me off, turn me on, make me question my judgement and actions and in general provide inconvenient emotions.

Concern pinched his eyes and there was a seriousness to his mouth that belied the casual tone of his question.

I bit down on my lip and tears silently flowed down my cheeks. Michael gathered me into his arms and held me close. He rested his cheek against the top of my head and pressed a kiss into my hair.

We stood like that for many minutes and if it hadn't been for the pain in my 'blasted arse' I would have fallen asleep. Finally comforted and at peace, feeling the right sort of 'safe' in Michael's arms and him safe in mine, I knew that apart of my tears was caused by the happiness of knowing he was safe.

"If I ask you a serious question," Michael said against my ear, "will you give me a serious answer?"

"Maybe." I murmured.

"Do you remember that time in my father's garage?"

"Vividly."

"And that time when we went at it in the Crashdown?"

"Uh huh."

"Why did you do it?" He asked. "Are my powers of persuasion really that strong?"

I looked at him in the eye and was surprised to see the concern that had built up all these years for me. "I suspect it had a lot to do with curiosity and rebellion on my part."

"So are you willing to share the responsibility?"

"Yes."

The smile had returned to his mouth and made his eyes twinkle. "And if I made love to you here in your kitchen, how much of the blame would you be willing to assume?"

"Jesus Michael, I've been blasted in the arse."

"Cupcake you've forgotten about my healing capabilities."

Oh Boy.

I won't tell you what happened next, or for that matter what continued to happen, but I will tell you that Michael's biggest fear now is that one day I'm gonna be the mother of his children.

****

END

****

Cast Swap Characters

Stephaine Plum ~ Maria DeLuca

Joseph 'Joe' Anthony Morelli ~ Michael Guerin

Mary Lou Molnar/Stankovic & Connie Rosolli ~ Liz Parker

Ellen Plum & Grandma (Edna) Mazur ~ Amy DeLuca

Morty Beyers ~ Jim Valenti

Connie Rosolli & Vincent Plum ~ Kyle Valenti

Ricardo Carlos Manoso (Ranger) ~ Maxwell Evans (Cagier)

Carmen Sanchez ~ Isabel Harding (name swap: Evans)

Ziggy Kulesza ~ Kathleen Topolsky

Eddie Gazarra & Carl Constanza & Dorsey ~ Alex Whitman

Benito Ramirez ~ Daniel Pierce

Mrs. Santiago ~ Betty Osorio

John Kuzack ~ Hal Carver

Edleman ~ Milton Ross

Carlene & Mrs Morelli ~ Courtney Banks

Gus Dembrowski ~ Gus Moss (Name added: Gus)

Jackie & Lula ~ Tess (name delete: Harding)

Jimmy Alpha ~ Ed Necedo (Name substitution: Harding)

Louis ~ Khivar


End file.
